Demisi Congeries
by Cyansan
Summary: Harry Potter wasn't always called Harry Potter. He also wasn't always male. In another life he/she was master assassin Agent. He/she was the mysterious killer in the paper who was never caught; paid or not for the killings. Reborn with memories intact, he will overturn the magical world for better or for worse. Slash! Voldemort/Harry. (Next Chapter Delayed)
1. Demisi Congeries:Chapter 1

**Warning:Mentions of** **Torture,Non-Graphic-Rape** (Never Anything Graphic) **,Death,Abuse, Sex, Foul-Language, and Homosexual-Relations  
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 **Main Pairing- Voldemort/Harry**

 **Second Warning: ManipulativeDumbledore! Psychopathic?/Sociopath?Harry! _Slightly_ ApatheticHarry! SadisticHarry! SarcasticHarry! KindVoldemort! InsaneVoldemort! SadisticVoldemort!**

 **AlternateReality/ReincarnationHarry! AssassinHarry!**

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 **Summery-** _Harry Potter wasn't always called Harry Potter. He also wasn't always male. In another life he/she was master assassin Agent. He/she was the stripper Fantasy. He/she was the med-student who hated his/her name. He/she was the mysterious killer in the paper who was never caught, paid or not for the killings. Reborn with memories intact. He will go on to seduce dark lords,overturn the wizarding world, and he will make Dumbledore look like the fool he is._ **  
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 **Arthur Note:** A word for the wise and so I don't confuse you all later, I tend to switch types of perspectives. This chapter is written mostly in First Person Point of View but the next is mostly written from the different types of Third Person Point of View. **  
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 _(Warning! May have spoilers after paragraph two)_

 _To the Readers,  
_

 _I'm new to writing fan-fiction. With a warning to the wise, my writing is often written in a erratic nature to later be edited. This editing will likely change the story-line. I thought that you the readers would like an explanation if you happen to re-read my story and become confused as to why it has been changed. So don't freak out in the reviews about how the story has suddenly changed. I'm not saying not to review about it. I do like a good review so I'm not saying not to. Complain all you want in the reviews if you want. I'm just explaining here and now that my story is likely to be written and rewritten often. Any questions about my story or sudden changes, leave a review.  
_

 _I would also like to ask your opinions on future pairings. Who would you like of any of the 'Order of Phoenix' members to end up with? Who would you like of any of the 'Death Eaters' to end up with? Who should be paired from any of the staff and students of 'Hogwarts'? Leave a review with your ideas.  
_

 _Any questions about the Alternate Universe Reincarnation Harry? Good because he/she is likely going to be the most confusing character you will ever read about. Any questions of why or how assassin Harry? Why? I felt that was one way to show Harry's sadistic murderous nature. How? Well...coincidences. Any questions on how Voldemort will be kind yet still be insane and sadistic? Have you ever heard of the phrase 'kind, but cruel'? Any more questions? Good. Love questions. Love answering questions. That didn't seem like sarcasm did it? It did didn't it? To clarify, that was_ _not sarcasm. I do want questions. Leave a review with your questions and I'll gladly answer them.  
_

 _From your all too frustratingly confusing author,_

 _-Cyansan-_

 _P.S-I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own the characters. If I did there would be more death, destruction and chaos if I had, not to mention Dumbledore would've chocked to death on a lemon drop, and Harry's 'vanquishing' of Voldemort would be by kisses instead. So no I do not claim to own Harry Potter._

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 ** _~-XxX-~ ~-Chapter 1-~~-XxX-~_**

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 ** _~-XxX_ _-~ ~-Part 1-Death of the Past. Who I once was.-~~-_ _XxX-~ ~-XxX-~_ _First Person POV~-XxX-~_**

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I watched my blood leave my body to pool onto the cracked windshield from my position upside down in my flipped over turned car that had crushed between two other so flipped vehicles. I took in two deep pain filled shuddering breaths as I knew in my mind that the ambulances wouldn't arrive on time to save me from my punctured lung, and cracked skull that I _knew_ I had. I thought back on my brief twenty-three years of life as it flashed before my eyes.

I lived in an nun run orphanage for six years. It wasn't the worst six years of my so called _childhood_. I had a roof over my head and food in my belly. To me that was enough. The only problem with my time there was the annoying nuns who _literally_ hit me over the head with a bible whenever I questioned them or their 'good' book.

The same nuns of whom I had later in my short life _'_ interrogated' to discern my parentage, though my parentage was only one amongst my many varies reasons why I had so 'interrogated' them. I had found from them that they had kept vital information from me. I had found that my birth mother was and I quote a 'no good whore who rightly died giving birth to a demon' and how said women had died right after naming me the damnable name of **Clare Pandora Thomson**. I had long since found that name to be as intolerable as it was boring.

I hated how weak she was to leave me in the damnable orphanage. I was also surprised to find out about how my father was a deranged serial killer who had been electrocuted in prison after he had stupidly got himself caught killing and torturing twenty-seven individuals. I hated how idiotic my mad father had been and how weak my mother was, but I loathed them more so that they had abandoned me for such _inexcusable_ reasons.

It did, however, make some sort of sick sense about my coming and going sadistic thoughts that had more often than not tittered along the thin line of being homicidal. It had also made some sense of my actions so far in my first sixteen years of life before I had, to put it lightly, come about this information of my parentage. It made things so clear for me.

My parentage had brought upon me the explanation as to why and how I was like how I was. It made things ever so clear when those nuns had so 'kindly' told me. It made me at that time realize that it wasn't **them** that had made me this way. It made me _so_ , _**so**_ happy to know it wasn't just **them** that made me this way. It made me accept myself as who I truly was. That I was _completely_ and _utterly_ **insane** and that was just fine with me.

My insanity that had been brought upon me had probably started in my early childhood, and most likely had come from a mixture of nature and nurture. Nature, being from my genetics from both my parents probably less than okay mentality. Nurture, being from a few too many hits from the 'good' book and from _that_ so called _**'incident'**_ with them the last year I was with them. The 'incident' which was when I was six that had involved an exorcism that had gone wrong _very_ , _**very**_ fast had probably been my breaking point.

I sometimes mused upon if that was what made my mind finally snap or if it was something else entirely. Was it possibly my newfound knowledge of my parents breaking the final shred of morality I had held onto? Was it when I finally knew of my genetics that it had broken the barrier of me actually caring about if I should or shouldn't act on my thoughts or was it just experiencing that torture that **they** had so 'kindly' given me that had given my first _true_ homicidal thought, and action? (In my defense, my thoughts had been of causing people pain long before I had been tortured). Was it truly the torture that **they** had called an 'exorcism' that had broken my mind? It probably was. Nobody could withstand being subjected to a torture that was of both mental, and physical means, and still have their sanity intact. I do, however, blame the knowledge of my parentage somewhat for my instability that had caused all my thoughts of killing as something totally amoral to fly out the metaphorical window.

To me killing was as just natural as breathing. To put it _simply_ , killing was just a rather enjoyable pastime to me. I don't care whether or not if it was a justifiable killing, a revenge killing, an 'accidental' killing, a joy filled killing, or a paid killing. Killing just brought me joy. So no matter the rhyme or the reason, to me killing was just that _killing_.

To me, killing was defined as a painful experience for the _kill-e_ , but for the _killer_ it was an enjoyable, natural, and beautiful experience that everybody should at least try once in a lifetime. (A/N: I don't condone murder. This is an entirely fictional statement from the deranged mind of a fictional sociopath or psychopath depending on your definition.)

I do remember how that farce of an 'exorcism' first began. I was so 'innocently' reading a book that I received from my school about the topic of creation vs. evolution, as I was a sort of unusual genius for being just six years old at the time. Though the word _genius_ was putting it lightly for the level of my high intellect for being so young. If I was anything I was a _genius_ among _geniuses_ with my high IQ being the way it was. If I had to guess on any likely reason of the occurrence that stemmed from my actions it would be that the nuns sanity had run dry, and they all had finally snapped at the thought that there actually was an argument on the topic as well as me reading it meant that there was some kind of devil at work as the nuns had always disliked me for some _strange_ 'unfathomable' reason.

The nuns having finally lost **it** , whatever _**it**_ was, began screaming or rather ranting quite loudly on about something along the likes of me being a 'non-believer' and the so called 'possession' of 'demons'. They had gone right after their whole one-sided lecture in a storm of stomping, huffing, and with a bit of 'mildly' insane mutterings right after much like they usually did after speaking with the 'devil' child. I had shrugged it off. I had thought that the whole lecture was nothing out of the ordinary for them to say or do when confronted with my words or my actions as they were always on about something similar like their ranting about demons to me or about me when I did something that went against their book. As I had thought it was just their usual ranting and raving that they have usually given me on such occasions, I had ignored them and went straight back to my 'innocent' reading.

That was, to me anyway, the 'normal' usual routine of my six years of living at the orphanage. My logical mind always tended to zone out from their extremist raves and rants so to me it was natural to ignore them, and I believed my life would continue as normally as always. How wrong I was.

I had thought nothing of the confrontation, that is until they grabbed a priest, and began muttering about something along the likes of an 'exorcism'. I had never given a thought to a different change in variables in my living or taunting of the nuns so when something different so to say happened I was stunned in immobile silence for a few moments as I was working in my mind what this new different occurrence could mean for me. Those few immobile seconds were a big mistake as the nuns and priests took that few moments hesitation to run to their advantage. Before I could run screaming to the metaphorical hills they had grabbed me. They held me down as I thrashed, and fought there grasp. Their hands on my wrist were like claws as their nails dug into my skin holding me in place as they placed a chemical covered white scratchy cloth over my mouth, and nose. I mistakenly begun to panic which caused me to hyperventilate before I could cut off my breathing, so I was forced to breathe in the harsh smelling chemicals in my few moments of weakness. A few breathes was all it took before my vision had gone hazy, and I had blacked out.

I had wondered from time to time whether or not that they were the _real_ crazy ones. That, however, was only before I _really_ went round the twist with my murderous sadistic thoughts. That was before I delved more and more into them. It was before they had turned from more then just thoughts. Before they had become sadistic murderous actions. Before they were only thoughts. Only _just_ thoughts.

I still had some of the fading pink scars from the symbols and passages that they had carved into my body in my childhood. **The cross.** That so called 'holy' symbol had been cut into my body. Littering my person from my arms, to my legs, my back, my chest, my face, but most specifically my forehead. They managed to fuck that one up, thank-fully. It turned out they didn't know how to draw the symbols evenly with the wavy ritual dagger as I was going to be their first, and their last victim. But fucking up that scar didn't deter them from practicing drawing the symbol with that same damnable dagger. Thank-goodness they started with my forehead messing up their branding in the process. It looked more like a lighting bolt instead of a cross. Later in my short life,almost all of my scars had faded. It was only that damned lightening bolt that stayed just as red, and vivid as ever.

I would doubt anybody would stay sane after ten hours a day of torture for months at six years old. Not that I was ever completely sane for a six year old. I was bound to a chair, and later strapped to a stone table. I was cut into with the mark of the cross over, and over again. They had literally rubbed salt into my wounds, agitating the cuts whist they chanted at me their 'Holy' passages of their bible, and forced subject to consume holy water to the verge of almost drowning. Nobody would stay sane after that, at least not an already unstable child.

After that 'incident', I was luckily removed from the tender 'care' of the nun run orphanage after I hadn't showed up to primary school for about two months with the nuns sorry excuse of me being just sick with no further details.

The school's personnel got suspicious when they had asked the other little orphans that I was housed with why, and where I was. The orphans had shrugged in response, and had said that they hadn't seen or heard from me or anybody else that I had been sick in the first place. This had made them worried, and strengthened their suspicion on the 'Holy' nuns claims. They had called the authorities to come investigate just where I could have had gone off to. After the police had been asked by the nuns to get a search warrant, it had made even the least inexperienced, and the more religious of them to become suspicious of the claims that the nuns had.

The police were now wanting to either confirm or deny these suspicion to leave in good conscious, or in other words they had wanted to be without guilt and get rid of the ill at ease feeling that they had gotten from this whole situations because if there was even a remote possibility that these suspicions turned to be more then just suspicions they didn't want to be held responsible. They had proceeded past the nuns saying that they had no need for a search warrant to pay a visit to a _poor_ unfortunate orphan.

After searching all of the orphans rooms finding nothing, they had overheard a few different nuns who passed by them when they were about to leave one said orphans room. The police men were shocked as they overheard the nuns muttering about whether they should let the demon out of the basement or just kill the thing if it wasn't already dead, and dump its body. The police bounding past them with the sinking gut suspicion of just who the demon might be that the crazed nuns had been muttering about.

The officers had found me locked inside the churches basement in a room that looked a lot like a torture cell straight from the middle ages. I was bound to a cult-like stone table, and naked as the day I was born. I was as pale as a corpse, and breathing ruggedly. I looked to be as underfed as an emaciated mutt from one of those Peta commercials. You could see my bones through my pale paper thin skin. I was littered with infected cuts, old and new bruises, and whip-like lashes across my whole body. Some of the cuts looking to be in the shapes of crosses, and others in the form of passages from the bible. I was soaked in holy water, and covered in salt. The only space not in the least bit injured or scared was my face save a single cut. They also saw what looked to be a large cross being constructed behind the table. The police were shocked to say the least at my state of being.

The newspapers the following day were filled with the arrest, and condemning of the church and several officials of the church, and orphanage on the grounds of ritual torture, rape, molestation, and neglect of a child. I was taken to a mental ward for an observation on my psyche after a short stay at the more _conventional_ hospital for my wounds. I was released under the diagnoses of PTSD by several, _obviously,_ inept physicians, and taken into government custody. I stayed with a nice enough pick-it-fence kind of couple for a few years until I was shoved off to a government military boarding school at eleven. None of them even had any idea of just what kind of demon I truly was.

I from the very beginning, even before the 'incident', showed the signs of the development of borderline personality disorder. Now, though, I don't think that could describe my mental state in the same way. The words slightly apathetic, hidden madness, and homicidal psychopath or sociopath (depending on your definition) would come to mind if I were to describe my shattered state of mind.

I was a bit expressionless, and I had very little emotion. It wasn't that I didn't have emotion or was incapable of showing expression, my emotions where just more dulled than others with stronger emotions would be. I showed my emotions mildly when I had a reason to show them, but they were most of the the time dulled. That being said, I was most of the time emotionally numb without a reason to feel said emotions. When I did feel them or showed them they were almost always dulled. The emotions that was an exceptions to being dulled or numbed, and those that I had felt, and experienced the most with were joy, pride, irritation, anger, humor, frustration, confusion, obsession, and the emotion I love the most _lust_.

Me feeling very little emotions meant that I had no or little of many other weaker emotions. One being I had felt none to little disgust, empathy, and sympathy in my life. I having these very few emotions probably had something to do with my ability to murder without a conscious. Killing many hundreds without a conscious which I had finally done after I had snapped completely in my later teen years.

I was also very manipulative as I had to be. Manipulating my expression since I was young so people wouldn't get any ideas of putting me in a straight jacket or so they wouldn't just avoid me, send me suspicious glares or question my behavior or thoughts. Being a 'PTSD' victim I was watched very closely and couldn't act without care. I didn't want them to have a reason to trap me in another place I would rather choose not to be in. I choose to instead learn to manipulate my expressions to look as if I felt more than I could than to chance a straight jacket, and padded cell to match.

I also had to learn to manipulate people. Manipulate how they saw me. How they would act around me. How I would act around them. Manipulating these people into situations that would give me the most out of them. From this I learned how to read people with emotions. How to understand those people with emotions. How to use those emotions to my advantage. I was very conning in my actions. Very manipulative. I liked to believe I was very fucking good at doing it too. I could con you out of your wallet, your heart, and your _life._ You wouldn't even know it even happened either. Not even in death would you know.

They had thought I was just stunned after the whole church 'incident'. **Stunned**. Can you believe it? _**Me? Stunned?** _ No. I was never just stunned. I always had the dulled emotions I do now when I thought about it. I had just broken completely after the incident. I wasn't truly homicidal until they had taken what innocence I had. I wasn't truly unconcerned about the life and death of other people until after what they had done to me. It was only after they showed me how much they had enjoyed torturing me. Only after they showed me just how much they enjoyed causing **_me_ _pain_**. It was only after that 'incident' that I found, to my delight and their terror after their 'interrogation', I had loved causing other people pain just as much as they did to me. I enjoyed their pain just like they had enjoying doing what they had done to me . Only I had enjoyed it much, _much_ , **_more_ ** than they did.

I loved causing people pain. I enjoyed watching their pained helpless expressions as I remove their less important organs one by one like one would watch a television program. I watched their blood drain from their body like one would enjoy relaxing at a riverside. I enjoyed watching their life leave their eyes like one would watch a summer sunset. Watching how the light within their eyes flicker and dim with each painful demonstration like one would watch the dying embers of a fire. I just wonder if I could've ever enjoyed this kind of _entertainment_ if they hadn't themselves showed me the joys of torture by me being the victim subject to such things with the whole 'incident' as it was. I like to think I would, but I know deep down in my mind that they were the ones who had broken my last shred of concern. My last shred of being something a little more human. Killing what little I had of being human at the time. They were the ones who had made me a true demon. They were the ones who made me become what I am now. A mad psychopathic demon of a women.

I spent my teens thinking upon what I was to do about my future as I had gone to that horribly boring excuse for a school. I mused that I couldn't stay with that old couple for the rest of my life or with the government either. I had believed they would sooner or later, pick up on my lack of strong emotions, sadistic thoughts and tendencies, and often more occurring murderous thoughts, and more recently actions. I had entertained the thoughts of becoming a doctor. I had so loved to cause people pain. It was one of the few things I still felt any complete joy and fascination from doing. I could also use it to hide any _unfortunate_ 'accidents' that come up much like those 'unfortunate' 'accidents' that occurred with those _poor_ nuns at that orphanage, that of which I may or may not have been the cause for their _oh so unfortunate_ state of being. The only problem with those thoughts is that I had no money to my name to make them more than just thoughts.

After graduating from the academy, I took up stripping to pay my way through college. Ironic? Yes? Maybe? But it was a good a way as any other to get what I want as well as allow me to freely practice new expressions, and gestures. It was _amusing_ to say the least. Watching both men, and women fall prey to my practiced alluring gestures, and expressions. I had even made a game out of it. Finding just what made people fall to my seducing the fastest. Finding what they liked, and what they disliked just by judging by their reactions, and/or by their expressions, and changing accordingly to get the best reactions from them. I soon became the most popular girl at the _establishment_. It was entertaining at best, and it had payed well enough for a while anyway.

Soon I found I couldn't pay the bills as well as I used to with just the pay I was receiving from my hours at the club. The economy was going down the shoot with the middle-east trying to start another religious war on us. I, _thankfully_ , had found a second job that payed a lot more than I could've ever hoped for what with the hard times that the world was currently facing at the moment.

Through coincidence I got this job through a very similar man to my own person. I had meet this man, who had similar thoughts and emotions to my own, when I had found him beating the living shit out of another man in an alleyway while I had been out shopping for some scalpels to test out. I had asked what he was doing. He answered me, _surprisingly,_ that he was _just_ beating him up for some information on a target. I asked if he wanted to borrow my new scalpels as they would work much better at getting said information. He said that would be kind of me to offer. We kind of just clicked after that when the beaten man had immediately talked after what I had offered, and to my surprise, and to our _**delight**_ we still had used my new scalpels.

The man had introduced himself as Code-Name because he thought it was _ironically_ funny when his victims would ask him 'code name what?'. I had to agree with him on that so I had introduced myself as Agent when he asked for my name. I had laughed and quirked a mischievous smirk when he had innocently asked me 'agent what?'. I had then told him 'exactly' before we both broke out in maniacal laughter. Just as easily as they came they left as both our sudden bouts of expressions were back to being in their original almost cold blank like state, but the presence of amusement still lingered in the air.

I curiously asked what he does for a living if he was killing men for information. He had assured me when I had asked him if he was part of the mafia that he wasn't a part of any gang or criminal syndicate. He told me he was an assassin. A contracted killer if you must. A man with deadly accuracy, and depending on how well you payed, no sense of morality. The higher the pay the more moral the killing. He could kill or tortured to death, men, women, children, priests, nuns, rapists, murders, the police or governors. They were all the same to him. Another face. Another hit. It didn't matter to him who they were or what they did, just as long as he was paid, and that they were dead. I asked him how well he was paid to be an assassin. He grinned a devious smirk, and told me that it paid quite a _lot._ I then dropped to his feet and proceeded to call him 'Master Code-Name', and beg saying 'please teach me your ways!.'

He did teach me, and he had taught me well. A silent approach, distant or not. Deadly precision, and accuracy with the utmost of grace. How to drag out torture the longest with or without the victim diving into insanity. How to shoot a gun, throw a knife, and break a bone cleanly or not. Where to cut, stab, and rip with the most efficiency, and where to cause the most or least amount of pain while doing so. Where to hit to knock someone out, kill, or to just cause the most or least amount of pain. Where, and how to disable a person. How to kill from afar or up close. How to hide in the shadows by day or by night. He was my teacher, and I was his apprentice. He was the one who taught me more of the joys of the art of killing, torturing, and stealth. I after, my training had finished, began to take some very tasty, and well paying jobs from him.

I remember I had asked him once why he didn't just kill me that day. He told me it was because I looked, and felt just like a fellow assassin so he was honestly surprised to say the least when I had asked him then to be my mentor. He had then figured if he had taught me I would be the best assassin there ever was or would be, and take all the credit for being the one to make it that way.

After doing my 'jobs', I went to medical school. I was perhaps the most studious student in attendance. Despite having two jobs, my hours at the club were at night, and my 'jobs' were very flexible. At night I worked the poll, or when I got a 'job' from my second job I had done someone in. During the day, however, I always had my nose in a book. I already had knowledge on how the body functioned, and how to break it, the only knowledge I didn't have on the subject was how to fix said body properly as well as to rid myself of the said body without a trace. So if you were looking to find me on school grounds during the day you could have found me at any time in the dorms or the library bent over, and reading from thick dusty medical books, or more recently you could find me bent over a fresh, and _mysteriously_ 'donated' cadaver, poking, and prodding at it with a scalpel, and staring at the corpse in fascination.

Now I lay here dying. I knew by the state of my injuries I didn't have long to live. Seeing from my rugged breathing, and my intimate knowledge on the subject of dying in general, and just how many liters of blood a person can be without before they black out, and then altogether die. I frowned as I thought on how I didn't even get to finish medical school, and how all of my hard earned work was now very much wasted. _Life so wasn't fair to me._ I breathed a rugged sigh in disdain. My vision was starting to go blurry as my view of the bloodied windshield dimmed. My eyelids grew heavy, as I felt my body begin to become numb, and tingly with the loss of blood, and blood flow. A sudden tiredness overtaking me as my eyelids drifted shut for the last time. My mind shut down as it was claimed by the blackness that had at last consumed it.

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 ** _~-XxX-~_** _~-_ _Part 2- Life after Death. Introductions.-~ **~-XxX-~**_ ** _~-XxX-~_** ** _First Person POV~-XxX-~_**

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My mind stirred awake as I felt a sharp pain overtake my body. I felt as if I was being squished out a curly straw. I felt my body being slowly pushed painfully from the slimy narrow cavern. The constriction around me lifted as I was finally out of, what I now dubbed, the tunnel of hell. My heavy eyelids fluttered open to a blindingly bright light. To my astonishment I was being held in the arms of a giant women. The giant of a women announcing my gender as being, to my surprise, _male_.

I tried to look down to confirm the women's claim of my gender but found my limbs were not responding to me in a way I would have liked. Instead I found myself squirming in her arms in response to my will when I had tried to move them. I hardened my resolve this time deciding to move one limb instead to make sure I wasn't paralyzed. Weakly lifting my arm, I found it much different then I had thought it had been or how I had remembered it to be. I stared at my new small limb. Blinking my eyes owlishly at the offending appendage.

Before I could react or even really think I was suddenly handed over to a pretty red haired giant or normal sized being as I had now realized with what was now, apparently, my small stature. She stared down at me from her tight hold of me with slightly dazed green eyes. She looked to be taking in my features. When my mind suddenly shot into overdrive. I suddenly remembered of the past events that had just taken place in my memory. I remembered dying, than blackness. But here I am alive,but _smaller_...or more probably _younger._ Most possibly I am younger, if it is what I am thinking rains true. As the only thing I can gather from this curious 'situation' is that I really had to have died and this 'situation' was possibly me having been just _reborn_. I shuddered for the first time in disgust at the thought of just what that slimy tunnel actually was. I cast the thought from my mind as it was too horrible to even think of at the moment.

My mind's musings were broken from their half thoughts when the hospital doors had suddenly swung open by a flood of three very _oddly_ dressed people. Oddly dressed even for me. That is saying something when I was someone whom also was an equally strangely dressed individual most of the time as I was once upon a time graced with the title/nickname of being queen of clash. They were wearing what appeared to be robes from the middle ages. Before I could muse the implication of who or what these people where and are, I was thrust from the red haired women's arms to be handed over to a dark haired man, before I could even protest or even register their quick movements, as I was too dazed from my rebirth as well as the fact that if I was indeed reborn I must have a new pair of eyes to get used to, thus making me unable to really register movement as well as I should have been able to.

The dark haired handsome man lifted me gently. Cradling me against his chest. "Hello my son. Hmm what to name you now?," he mused looking at the red haired individual that laid across the hospital bed for the answer.

 _'So this gent is to be my new father, that is if I really had gone and died,'_ I mused to myself at his implication of fathering me by his say so of calling me his son.

"Hadrian Jamison Potter," the women announced, rolling her eyes. Putting her head in her hand at his tiring amusing antics, but still humoring him. She smiled slightly. She fanned a tired sigh and continued,"James, we had already gone over this and agreed on it together. Remember, _hmm_?"

"Yes. Yes. Lily dear, I remember. Little Harry, now I guess we should introduce ourselves as it would be rude to do otherwise," James mused acting in all seriousness as he thought with tightly clenched lips. He then suddenly smiled a large gleaming manic smile at me as he turned around swiftly to view the two others who had came into the room with him. He shifted me in his arms for me to better look at them and them to better look at me. Cradling me to him with only one arm as he motioned to the two men to come closer from the doorway.

I blinked up at the two men, clearing my vision as I did; getting a bit more used to the new sight that was provided by my new body. I took in both of their features one at a time. The first one I took in was in my opinion a handsome man. He was a bit more of a shaggy, but regal looking handsome than that of my father's more Hollywood angelic looking handsome. He also had longer straighter black hair, then my fathers crazy looking short locks that seemed to want to defy gravity. He had more chiseled features. A paler parlor to his skin. A straight nose, thin lips, and a round face with dark stubble dusting his sculpted jaw and on hallow cheeks with impossibly high cheek bones. He had round cloudy-grey eyes that held a certain madness in them that was almost hidden away from my eyes, but I saw it as I was all _too_ familiar with that sort of madness that he had contained in them. A madness that was tightly chained, but let loose when on the occasion a situation arises that lets us loosen our hold on it.

The other was a more manly woodsman type. He was a more cute than handsome type of man. He had short caramel colored hair. Tanned skin. Dark brown eyes that glowed with a hidden feral amber that sparkled in the light. Full chapped lips. He had a square face with a strong jaw and full cheeks, sporting a nice light five o'clock shadow across them. He also had three long pink scars across his cute button nose, that went straight down his cheeks past his strong chin to his thick neckline that then disappeared from my sight beneath his odd looking robes.

My new father gestured to the dark haired man with the wonderful mad grey eyes. He spoke formally with a put upon higher than thy tone,"This here is your Godfather. Or if you like to call him, your _Dogfather_. Sirius Black. Lesser known as Padfoot."

The dark haired man bowed several times with a sort of overacted and outrageous dramatic flare during his introduction, much to my amusement."Yes, thank-you. I know I'm great. Thank-you," the dark haired man mocked in the same mimicked tone as James's before he straightened his back and smiling in an impossibly wide mad grin that showed way too many teeth then should be humanly possible,"It's a pleasure to meet you, mini prongs."

"And this," my father gestured to the feral brown eyed,caramel haired man,"Is Remus Lupin. Friend. Werewolf. Lesser known as Moony." The man shrugged as he rubbed his neck shyly in response as I looked upon him with hidden curiosity.

 _'Werewolf? Did I hear correctly? And is his name literally Wolf-Wolf? Or was it Moony? This is getting a little strange and more and more confusing,'_ I thought. I was beginning to now worry for my fathers sanity. I had then relaxed when I realized, and remembered my own sanity was less then ideal. I mused at the thought of if my apparent death had now put me way past going completely round the twist as I felt that I have now gone past it round the bend and came back again for another go around if I had heard correctly and that there really are werewolves where ever I find myself being now. I worry that I may never see the same bend again if that holds any truth or if I even want to.

My father turned me to face, my now more obvious to my waking mind, red haired mother. "This is your mother Lily Potter, my wife, and formally known as Lily Evans," he explained as he returned me back to my mothers thin pale arms. I looked at her more in thought. She was pretty. She had moss green eyes, a petite nose. Rose colored small lips. Freckles covering her pale heart shaped face across her smooth high boned cheeks. I noticed her long wavy blood red hair shine in the light, as her rounded eyes peaked through it. She reminded me slightly of the painting of _La Naissance de Venus_ _by Amaury Duval._ Just more clothed than that painting had been.

I shuddered as I remembered what occurred just moments ago. I thought with a hidden grimace _,'I have never once felt disgust in my life before...now..Now I'm officially put off with women, all because I had to experience... **that**.'_

"And that is your annoying father, James Potter," Lily mocked before James could continue with his playful antics,"and my _dear_ husband, leader of the messers also known as the marauders,but lesser known as Prongs". I looked onto him closer now studying his face more closely then I had before. He was handsome,that much was true, like a Hollywood star or like an angel fallen from grace. His hair had given him a crazed look as it seemed to want to defy all of the laws of physics. His hazel eyes were looking at my new mother in amusement with a slightly mad look about them, even more hidden then Sirius's was but it was there none the less. His features were more soft then what Sirius has. He had slightly hollow cheeks, but they had less depth then his had. His nose being a more softly curved, but still straight. Lips full with a permanent shade of red above his rounded chin and around his smoothly curved defined jaw. His oval face was cleanly shaven. I lastly regarded how curious his ears were. Looking to be rounded yet somehow still being a bit pointy at the ends, much like I thought an elf's might be like.

"Where's Peter? Sirius, you didn't tie him up again did you?," James asked in a tone one might use to address a dog as I watched my father pull a chair with one arm to sit on by Lily's bedside breaking me from my stares upon his person. Before Sirius could object to it, make an alibi or answer to Peters whereabouts, the door was once again opened with a loud screech from its hinges.

My mind was still trying to put all this new information together. Trying and failing to wrap my head around my new parents and their friends. But my thoughts were always it seemed to be fated to be rudely interrupted by everyone and everything. As I watched with growing fascination, an old man with a white beard that trailed to his toes dressed in robes that were an odd mix of orange and purple stripes with polka-dots on them that I thought seemed to work _too_ well together, appeared in the hospital doorway. Said man then proceeded to walk in casually through the doors entrance uninvited as if he owned the place and had all the right to be here and that it was not at all odd.

After I had given the man I once over, I declared in my thoughts _," Looks like somebody has usurped me and taken my throne place as Queen-I mean-King of clash. I hereby crown thee thy king of mismatch. You'll get your paper crown from me at Christmas."_

"Dumbledore, glad you could make it," James fake cheered as he began to get up from his perch on the wooden chair to greet the odd looking old man.

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid this visit isn't just for the purpose of your heirs birth," Dumbledore began solemnly, "There has been a prophesy." James stalled in his movement to get up. He than plopped back into the wooden chair with a melodramatic sigh. Dejectedly crossing his arms at this begrudging announcement. He quirked an eyebrow at him, gesturing him in an impatient wave to urge the old man to continue.

"Just? What does that have to do with my sons birth?," Lily demanded cradling her son closer to her chest. I stilled as I was crushed into my mothers breast, smothering me in them. I began to think upon the implications of a so called prophesy and just how strange these people really are.

"Don't jump to conclusions yet my flower," James admonished as he placed his hand on her thigh to sooth her worrying outrage and to stop my mother from trying to smother me into re-death or rebirth by bosom snuffing.

"Fine! _B_ _ut_ does it have to do with Harry?," Lily sniped. Glaring at Dumbledore while she lessened her hold on me. Allowing me to breathe beautiful sweet oxygen ounce more.

Dumbledore walked closer to Lily's bedside sitting on one of the empty chairs that James had pulled over from somewhere when I hadn't been looking or when I had been, honestly, not been paying any lick or amount of attention to him at all as I was too consumed in my thoughts to do otherwise.

"It may or it may not be about Alice's son who was born hours before as well," Dumbledore explained as if this was all just a casual conversation discussing the weather instead of a life altering conversation. I regarded the old man in suspicion. Searching his eyes as I read them. What I saw I did not like. I had seen he was deliberately being vague. I also saw a tad bit of amusement at doing so. I narrowed my baby eyes at him in what could amount as a glare but in my baby form probably looked more like I was squinting at him.

"What do you mean?," questioned James with false innocent curiosity while Lily looked slightly angry at Dumbledore's deliberate act of mysteriousness.

"Yes, what exactly do you mean Dumbledore?," Lily added coldly barely restraining the venom of her words, glaring even harsher at the man. Taking a long look at my new mother as she was glaring in full unadulterated hatred at the man. I decided in my heart it best not to look at or associate with him in the future. ' _If she-I mean-my mother doesn't trust him. I don't trust him,'_ I thought.

"A prophecy was made this evening involving a child born at the end of July," Dumbledore stated pausing for what seemed to be dramatic effect," Said child would be the vanquisher of Voldemort."

I mused at the implications of who this Voldemort was or how or what this prophecy _actually_ was _? '_ _Vanquish could mean a lot of things,'_ I thought upon curiously

"And our child?..," James questioned again before looking at the man in anger as he registered what Dumbledore was insinuating. Blocking Dumbledore from my view and his view of me in what looked to be a poorly constructed human-shield, as he stood again from the wooden chair. James spat at him, "He was born on the dot of midnight…so he wouldn't be this...this _prophesied_ child!"

"Depends on what this prophecy said," Lily spat venomously openly glaring at Dumbledore.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not," Dumbledore answered sagely as if he was the one to state the prophecy himself.

I mused about the implications of this new information _. 'A power he knows not? How interesting. And what of this equal nonsense? What would an equal be to a Dark Lord? What even is a Dark Lord? Does it mean a second Dark Lord? Or maybe a Light Lord? It's so positively vague. And this defying. Defying can be done in a way that isn't done deliberately so why assume I must be one of two born to 'vanquish' this Dark Lord when loads of children are born everyday whose parents could at the same time trice being deifying him?'_

"So, it's possible that our little Harry could be the one in the prophecy?," James asked rhetorically plopping in the wooden chair. Slouching a bit and as he frowned in thought, but quickly straightened his posture with a put upon neutral expression, so fast that if I didn't see it then I probably wouldn't have seen the look upon his face of absolute resignation that was on it just a second ago.

"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore agreed mock solemnly nodding his head.

 _'He is so fake. I can smell his acting from here. I can also obnoxiously feel his pleasure from this obviously tense situation,'_ I seethed angrily in thought.

"What are we going to do then!?," Lily hollered slumping in the bed, looking as if she aged a few years in an instant."What if that insane megalomaniac finds out!?," Lily questioned holding me closer protectively, but not enough to smother me.

 _'Insane Megalomaniac? Is this prophesy gibberish that serious?,_ ' I questioned in my mind.

"He'll kill both Alice's son and mine if he finds out there's a prophecy even if this prophecy is valid or not!," she raved taking a few shallow breaths before calming. I mused upon the implication about dying so early into my new life, then horrified at the thought of having to relive birth again if I did.

 _'I am so not re-dying yet!,_ ' I thought totally not childish in any way with a barely contained shudder, _'Rebirth is so terribly confusing, not to mention super painful and really very gross!'_

"I bet he already knows it's not like there aren't any of his Death Eaters working at the Department of Mysteries!," Lily sarcastically yelled almost to the point of screaming it hysterically as she tried -and failed- to set Dumbledore a smolder with her almost deadly glare.

 _'Death eaters? Department of Mysteries?,'_ I thought as the wheels began to finally turn in my brain at as all the information came into place, _'Toto, I believe we're not in Kansas anymore. In fact, I believe we're not anywhere near Kansas anymore -not that I ever lived or been there before or in America for that matter anyways.'_

"I assure you, child, that the prophesy is valid," Dumbledore informed softly.

"Right," Lily drawled in disbelief and rolled her eyes in contempt.

James got up to pace about the room in thought as the room filled with tense silence as he got up from that poor abused wooden chair yet again. "I think we could cast the _**Fidelius Charm**_ over the smaller more defensively house in Godric's Hollow and we'll be right as rain," James announced in a put upon cheery tone as he stopped in his pacing momentarily to announce to the room the idea that of which had seemed to lighten the atmosphere in the room a bit before he went back to his manic pacing.

 _'A what charm? Yep. Defiantly not in Kansas. Judging by the accent I'm still in Britain, but as I once had heard of that 'loads of places have a North', I can't be too sure on my whereabouts. I can't be where I used to be from with all this serious talk about werewolves, prophesy's and Dark Lords. I was too disorientated to notice it, or to think properly about it, but by just going with what everyone is dressed in, anybody can definitely see that this place is a bit too oddly strange to be back in my Britain. I could be anywhere from a different world, different time or a mental ward for all I know,'_ I thought feeling for the first time ever the full thrall of complete and utter confusion.

"Oh? I could help you there, my child," Dumbledore spoke in a faked soothing tone,"All you'll need is a secret keeper."

 _'A secret keeper? I shouldn't just question what's going on anymore should I? Maybe I should just go with the flow of things now. I'll find out what all of what they're saying about is eventually,'_ I thought in complete acceptance of the 'situation', _'_ _Better to just live and let learn as they say. Better to live in acceptance then in denial or in complete and utter confusion.'_

The one of the two audience members piped in."What about Peter? No one will even think that Peter Pettigrew would be the secret keeper," Sirius piped in, mock cheerily.

"Great idea Padfoot," James exclaimed as he paused from his pacing. Looking at the mad grey-eyed man. "When did you become a genius? Was it when I blinked? Must've been then because I could've sworn you were a moron before I had blinked," James smirked at him as he stood stopping his pacing all together.

"A Genius? Where? All I see is a room full of people with only _slightly_ above average intelligence," Sirius interjected as he placed a hand on his brow and squinting to see just where this rare genius was. Stopping his line of sight on my mother. He answered his own question as he stated,"Oh I can see the genius it has red hair with a babe in her arms and it seems you're married to her. Oh wait, never mind. You must be confused. There's no genius here."

"Oh?," Lily cocked a questioning brow almost threateningly as she urged Sirius to explain that obvious insult.

"Lily," he tisked waving an insolent finger at her mockingly as he continued," You could've done so much better than this." Sirius finished as he motioned his hands at James absently as he looked James up and down.

"Could I now?," Lily questioned humoring him now as she saw where his antics were leading. The mood was lightening. The once tense atmosphere almost gone. Seemingly making everyone forget all about a life changing prophecy altogether.

"Yes, I admit I was lucky to catch such a dream," James sighed dramatically clutching a fist to his chest where his heart was while making Lily smile up lovingly at him, "The Potter luck is the only explanation as to why it could've been someone as lowly as I could ever get to 'have and to hold' as the muggle vow goes this vision of beauty"

"Yes. Now let us go to Godric's Hollow and fetch Peter," Dumbledore interrupted like a wet blanket. Dampening the mood, making the air hang again with that, same once again, tense atmosphere.

* * *

 _ **~-XxX-~**_ _~-Part 3- A Mothers Instincts. Viewpoint.-~ **~-XxX-~ ~-XxX-~**_ _ **Lily Potter POV~-XxX-~**_

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There were times when Harry acted strange. Even his birth was strange. Lily Potter sat on the rocking chair staring silently at her son playing with his white toy snake with ruby red eyes. Sighing she took a sip of tea absentmindedly as she became lost in her memories of the past year in a half with her Harry. He was and still is too oddly quiet for his age. He didn't even cry when he was born. Didn't cry when he was hungry or needed changed. Didn't make any noise at all in fact and it scared her immensely. She would never admit it at loud, in her thoughts or even if anyone ever asked, but his eyes held too much intelligence for one so young.

She only ever heard her child laugh when James's friends came over to make trouble or when she or Severus made sarcastic comments about something or someone, though strangely enough her baby seemed to hate Peter with immense passion for whatever reason. He always glares at him, when he comes over. She knows her son doesn't have a reason to glare at the poor man, but she finds it oddly suspicious that he does, especially so now that she has begun to noticed that her baby wouldn't laugh at the marauders jokes when he was in the room with them.

 _'Just what is so wrong with poor Peter that my son resents him so?'_ , Lily questioned in her mind as she sipped more of her tea.

Sighing. She does love her son, but she has felt him to be too scarily strange. She knew now that Dumbledore was right, Alice's son was not going to be declared the so called prophecy child anytime soon. Alice's son was far too normal to be it. Her son was not in any sense _normal._

She remembers the day he was born. Asking if he was okay just after his birth as he wasn't crying like newborns were said to do. Being told by the nurse that he was fine healthy boy as she handed him to me in a stunned daze and a quick congratulations as she seemingly vanished altogether to go get James and company.

Her child was not as she expected him to be. He didn't look so much like James with her eyes as everyone had thought he would look like. He did have her almond shaped green eyes, but they were more intense, more vivid, and a more luminescent emerald green dulling her soft dull moss green eyes in comparison. His hair was black like his fathers, but was by far darker like raven feathers, more tousled than unruly (unlike his father's un-tamable mess), and soft like freshly woven silk. His face was heart shaped, ending with a softly curved, but pointed chin. He had a Grecian nose. High cheekbones concealed by chubby baby cheeks(No doubt he would loose when he grew older). Round ears almost pointed at the ends, and he had pale skin tinted a slight shade of pink in, but only in, his chubby baby cheeks. He looked more like a porcelain doll than her child as she glanced upon his face. Lips colored red and shaped in what looked to be a permanent pout-y face and his long black eye lashes blinking owlishly at her as she continued her survey of him.

She stared at him in a kind of dazed stare until James, Sirius, and Remus burst through the door drawing her attention away from her evaluation of her son's appearance. She remembers the blank expression her son gave her as she named him. Or the same unchanged look as I introduced James as his father and when I was introduced his mother as well as his blank stare at his godfather and Remus.

She remembers that a few hours after that when the old headmaster came over to warn us of that thrice damned prophecy as her son just stared at him looking like he had just seen a very rare creature. The first time she ever saw his expression change from the blank expressionless stare to a slightly amused one to an irritated one finally settling on a confused one before all expressions were washed once again. One thing she found even stranger is that her child never wanted to look at the old headmaster's whenever he came to visit sense. Ignoring him entirely. Even when the headmaster tried to get her son's attention he ignored him like he wasn't even there.

 _'Maybe my son doesn't trust the man just like how I don't trust him,'_ Lily mused in her thoughts.

She remembers that he learned to crawl earlier than any of the other children his age, and a few days after he learned to walk. He still doesn't talk, but one look in his unusual too intelligent eyes and she fears she knew _why_. She remembers the time she first did magic in front of her baby, the only time she felt he ever truly looked like a true child.

She was setting the table for dinner while he was in his high chair, when as she absentmindedly took a glass from the cupboard to set on the table, she had dropped it. Shattering it completely. Pulling out her wand with a quick _**Reparo**_ , it had mended itself from its broken pieces. He looked at me with such child-like wonder like whatever I did was impossible, amazing, and all too wonderful than it was filled with curiosity and an expression of emotion that she couldn't read. She knew one thing however was that whatever she did she flipped a light-switch in her son's mind as she had watched her sons gaze flick to my wand, then to me,to the glass finally settling down to rest at his hands.

Then she remembers what happened a few maybe days or a few weeks after that. His first bout of 'accidental' magic. He somehow had made to appear out of thin air a toy white snake. The same toy white snake that he's now playing with. She didn't know if he had summoned it or if he had created it out of something, but it had just appeared. The white snake had also made Dumbledore nervous for some strange unfathomable reason when we had showed it to him after James boasted about his son having showed already the signs of magic at just six months old. She also remembers how her son was moving objects in his room when he couldn't reach them when he thought she wasn't looking. Or him generally and impossibly using magic _deliberately_ when he thought she wasn't looking. Or on the rare occlusion she had caught him reading about magic from the family tomes, then impossibly proceeding to use said magic from said tomes, wandlessly and wordlessly when he again thought she wasn't there.

After being lost in her memories she hadn't noticed James walk in or place his hand on her shoulder until she flinched at hearing his voice breaking her from her memories."Lily dear," James began rubbing her shoulders,"It's almost eight 'o'clock"

"Yes, I suppose it is," Lily breathed out," I should get Harry to bed shouldn't I"

James stared at her oddly for a good few seconds before enveloping her in a warm gentle embrace when she stood."He's not going to came for Harry, Lily, He doesn't even know about the prophecy," James soothed.

"I know…it's just…just…never mind…You're right. I'm just being silly," Lily choked out. Looking not in the least bit reassured with his words for the reminder of the prophesy. She walked over to Harry and picked him up carefully not to show how indecisive she was about picking up her own child. She always felt like he could just go and do it himself and she felt like she should just let him go on and do it on his own. She quickly walked him to is room and into his crib.

 _'He is just fifteen months old. Why do I feel as if he is already old enough to make decisions for himself? It is all too strange. Weren't mothers all on about babying their children? Where were my mothering instincts or were my mothering instincts intact and telling me I'm just not needed? It's all too strange,'_ she sighed aloud at her thoughts.

"Goodnight and happy Halloween my son," she cooed aloud awkwardly,kissing him on the forehead. _'Strange or not he is still my son,'_ she thought finally as she left the room.

* * *

 _End Chapter 1/? Last Edit- 3/16/2016  
_


	2. Demisi Congeries: Chapter 2

**Warning: Mentions of Torture, Mentions of Rape** _( Never Anything Graphic!)_ **,Death, Abuse, Graphic Sex, Foul-Language, and Homosexual-Relations  
**

 **Main Pairing- Voldemort/Harry**

 **Second Warning: ManipulativeDumbledore! _P_** ** _sychopath/Sociopath_ Harry! _Slightly_ ApatheticHarry! SadisticHarry! SarcasticHarry! KindVoldemort! InsaneVoldemort! SadisticVoldemort! ****AlternateReality/ReincarnationHarry! AssassinHarry!**

* * *

 **Summery-** _Harry Potter wasn't always called Harry Potter. He also wasn't always male. In another life he/she was master assassin Agent. He/she was the stripper Fantasy. He/she was the med-student who hated his/her name. He/she was the mysterious killer in the paper who was never caught, paid or not for the killings. Reborn with memories intact. He will go on to seduce dark lords, overturn the wizarding world, and he will make Dumbledore look like the fool he is._ **  
**

 **Arthur Quick Note-** _First Person POV is gone from this chapter and written in the Third Person Limited POV and the Third Person Multiple POV_

 **Rating: _18+_** _( NOT FOR SENSITIVE OR CHILDRENS EYES)_

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 _'This is my inner monologue' -_ Thoughts

"Excuse me! I'm talking to you!", Cyan said - Speaking

 **~Slithering around~ A snake hissed** \- Parsletongue

 _The Little Book of Calm_ \- Book Title

 _ **.:Avada Cadaver:.**_ \- Spell spoken (*giggles*)

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 _Dear Readers,_

 _If your still wondering about the random or sudden changes to the story I'm here to tell ya that I'm new to fan-fiction and I update and edit my stories to make them clearer/better. I like a good fan fiction as I'm sure you do to that is why I re-write and edit my fan works. I love writing fan fiction as I'm sure you'll enjoy reading them._

 _I wanted to ask you-the-readers thoughts on my idea for some sub-pairings I came up with. What are your opinions of Neville/Rabastan, Remus/Fenrir, and Sirius/Severus as couplings? *blushes* I bet you can see the trend forming of the would be enemies turned to lovers...I..I kind of have an weird habit of fixing together people who shouldn't be together, together *blushes harder*. It's like I have a love/hate kink in my writing... *Clears throat* Um..that's why I wanted to knew your opinions before I act on my weird fixation of hate turned to love in my pairings. I write for myself, but I also want you-the-readers to enjoy my writings *Smiles fondly*._

 _If you have any questions about the previous chapter, as I'm sure you have them, I'll answer them. Firstly the story is going to be a bit off cannon as you can see from Severus being at the Potter residence making sarcastic comments with Lily as I'm sure you all read about in the previous chapter. You'll learn more about it later as I'm sure you will continue reading. Probably. Sorry that was very arrogant of me to assume. Not that I don't want you to read my stories. *sighs* Anyway. You can also see that there is already mistrust with Dumbledore among the Potters and company as well as our main character. Let it be known now, that despite Harry being a reincarnation of an insane/psychopathic/slightly-apathetic med-student/assassin/stripper, that he is a good judge of character and that he can read people like a mini, much less put together, Sherlock Holmes.*sighs again* I had told you he/she is a very confusing he/she even confuses me, and I wrote his/hers new personality. I'll be explaining why the others have more of reason to mistrust him in this chapter. I guess that's all for now. Many people may question why Harry isn't more concerned about his/her new gender. Here's several reasons why that is; Harry is a psychopath or maybe more a sociopath depending on your definition, meaning he is insane: Harry is slightly-apathetic meaning he doesn't much care what gender he is; Harry at that time doesn't exactly know what to believe at the time just what would you think if you died and were reborn?; Harry at the time was bisexual (not so much now sense being reborn has made women a put off for him/her); Harry is more open-minded despite how mental he is; Harry is also more rational then others would be also despite how mental he is. Another point of the matter that you may question is why Lily knows something is off about Harry? Well, Read to find out.  
_

 _From Your Still All Too Confusing Arthur,_

 _-CyanSan_

 _P.S I am a disclaimer. I do love the H.P. series, but I am sorry to say that I had not a hand nor did I have a foot in making it otherwise Dumbledore would have chocked to death on a lemon drop and H.P and Tommy-Boy would've rode off romantically into the sun set on a deathly pale horse._

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 _ **WARNING THIS CHAPTER:** "There is torture and gore in this chapter! Just thought you all ought to know," Quiralmort stuttered and  very dramatically faints. _

* * *

**_~-XxX-~_** _~-_ _Chapter 2_ _-~_ ** _~-_ _XxX-~_**

* * *

 _ **~-XxX-~** ~-Part 1-The Boring Life that is Childhood. Beginnings.-~ **~-XxX-~** _

* * *

Harry had fell asleep after observing all he could. He wanted to learn all about this strange new place that he had found himself reincarnated to. He needed the knowledge if he wanted to live and survive. When he had finally nodded off, he dreamed about his life before in his own world. He was getting rid of the evidence of a particularly gruesome torture victim that _defiantly_ had nothing to due with her/him. He was experimenting dissolving a body in sulfuric acid in the hospital basement's bathroom from where and when he/she was apprenticing.

He had placed the body in the aged grey claw footed tub. He then proceeded to carefully pick up the container that held the very corrosive liquid. _Sulfuric Acid._ He poured the liquid slowly on as he introduced it to the bloodied and broken body. The smell was harsh as the chemical hit the body tickling his nose with it's strong odor. It smelled a mix of gore, rotten eggs, rancid milk, and iron. He didn't particularly love the pungent smell, but he was mesmerized at what the amazing liquid did to the body and planned to do it on a live one next time he had the chance.

He watched the body corrode in curiosity. He was almost bewitched as the sulfuric acid ate away at the body. His eyes following the trail of liquid that bubbled the skin as it reached the wound. He watched as the liquid seeped into the bodies tortured abdomen. The bodies abdomen had already been split open from the torture session before so there was nothing to block his sight from viewing the already bubbling and smoking organs. He watched transfixed as the liquid began dissolving the intestines. He watched captivated as the blood from the wound began to boil and simmer from the chemical heat. His eyes left the wound to glance at the new trail of liquid he poured over the victims chest as the liquid the he poured down the lower abdominal had already turned the bodies intestines and insides into that of liquid putty. Enthralled by the sight, he watched as the liquid quickly ate away at the bubbling skin pealing it away and turning it to liquid. He watched as the skin revealed the fat and red muscles hidden underneath it. He watched hypnotized as it to dissolved into a puddle of mass that continued to make the body into a state of which is almost unrecognizable o what it ounce was.

He poured the last of the sulfuric acid covering the body entirely as the slow show was starting to tire him. He watched as the liquid quickly dissolved the last of the muscles as it turned into liquid to pool at the bottom of the porcelain grey tub with the rest of the liquefied flesh. He watched entranced as it reached the victims bones. The liquid cracked and split the mans white bones until it was not, but just shards. He watched in fascination as the shards themselves liquefied. Watched as the last of the organs turned into masses of liquid. He watched as it made the body disappear, leaving nothing but a liquid mass of organic material, chemicals, and smoke. Whistling a cheerful tone as he pulled on the black chemical protected gloves that went to his shoulders, he uncorked the tub as he washed the remains down the hospital bathrooms tub leaving nothing behind.

His dream spun to a different scene. He returned back to the mans previous torture session. He had used one of his prized sliver daggers to slowly cut away at the mans muscles. He cut once, twice, seven times as the victim plead for him to stop. To let him go. The man plead for his life, then he plead for his life to end. Cried until his voice was horse. He wept and plead as he had slowly brought the knife to cut away at the muscles and fat. Cutting the body one muscles at a time. The mans words had fell unheard on his uncaring ears as he moved to put his hand into the mans upon open wound to slow his bleeding momentarily.

He smiled as he glanced upon the man at his mercy. The man was bound with leather straps to the hospital bed, blindfolded so the man would have no choice but to focus on the pain so that it would increase the sensation of pain from the cutting he had done. He took his sliver knife to the mans face and broke the blinder on the man so he had no choice but to watch in horror at what was next. He took the knife's flat side to gently caress the mans pale face. He slowly ever so slowly moved the knife along the curves of the mans face, until he slide the knife down to the mans neck tracing the muscles with the blade careful not to cut the skin as the man froze then tensed in terror as he cried in pain. He moved the blade down, sliding it from his chest until it reached the bloodied stretch across his abdomen. The man whimpered and cried as he watched my 'demonstration' in both pain and horror as he slide the blade _gently_ into the mans cavity. He slowly cut the curled up snake like organ from the inner walls of the victims abdomen as the man screamed.

He loved the sounds that he had made. The slash sounds as the flesh began to be torn away. The splatter sounds of the red glistening blood hitting the floor. The squelching sound as he pulled and tugged at the offending organ from the walls. The screams and whimpers he caused he loved most of all. He removed his hand and knife as he finished his task at cutting the organ away from the walls as the victim screamed in both pain and horror. He dropped the knife on the counter next to the hospital bed. Sliding his slender pale finger tips down his bloodied chest. He glided his hands to the slit in the mans abdomen. His fingertips had left a wonderful trail through the red glistening blood that stained his fingertips the same wonderful shade of red. His hands pressing softly into the slit of the wound seeking entrance into its bloody depth. He swiftly plunged his slender hand into the wound non to gently going by the mans scream. He began searching roughly for the organ he desired he had wanted to _play_ with. He finally felt what felt like a slimy snake.

He was rewarded with a pained moan as he ever so slowly brought out the mans large intestine. He pulled the organ out from the victims body, wrapping it around the mans thin _oh so fragile_ and aged neck. He slowly tightened the intestines with more strength integrated into it bit by bit to prolong the mans suffering. The man had uselessly tried to straggle against his own organ and the leather bindings. He strangled the man with the glistening wet snakes. He had tightened the mans intestines with one last tug of them as he had finally chocked the man to a not so peaceful rest. He watched on as the light had finally left the mans already dimmed blue eyes. He stopped strangling the man as he dropped the intestines causally like one would drop anything else. He watched in fascination as the intestine hung loosely from the body,glistening wet in the mans red shimmering blood.

He was startled awake from his sweet slumber by the bark of laughter of his apparent _dogfather_. Harry had found that title that his father had given in his introduction fitting. It had described Sirius wonderfully after he had listened to Sirius's and James's antics in the hospital room. Sirius to him acted like as well as looked like a little mad dog. So when he was awakened by his _dogfather's_ bout of laughter he was ready to swat his nose with a rolled up newspaper. Remembering he couldn't actually move to hit him with said newspaper made him try to seethe, as much as a baby could which wasn't much, in anger and glare at the man across the strangely decorated room. Harry having noticed the change in location he found his anger quickly dissipating; replacing it with mild intrigue and curiosity. He was still being held in his mothers arms, but instead of her being laid in a white hospital bed in a off white gown she sat in an old dusty antique looking armchair dressed in strange looking emerald green robes. He looked around his new surroundings the best he could as he adjusted to his new body.

Ignoring the conversations going about around him as well as the people, Harry glanced around the room. Harry seemed to be housed in a house that was a strange mix of new and old. He was in an odd room painted an awful shade of horrid sunshine yellow that had ancient looking dark oak floors. Glancing at the furniture he was surprised at how much their decorating sense matched my own, though it didn't have my color scheme of blacks, greys, and more blacks. The living space was decorated with the odd mismatched furniture. A new black lazy-boy chair sat in the corner by a huge elephant sized white brick fireplace. A mess of rugs, all of which were all several different kinds of rugs as well as several colors, were placed around the room covering the oak floors. He could see that the windows were covered blocking the light out with odd looking drapes that looked to be stitched together with several different colored and textured fabrics. A white puffy looking couch sat in front of an old looking television that looked to be from the 90's which was housed on a oak stand was to the right of the giant fireplace. He returned to look at what was covering the ugly yellow walls.

Harry did a double take at the pictures that graced it's very unfortunately colored walls. 'Is _that...is that..photo moving?'_ Harry stared intently at the picture of a his mother being twirled around by his father.

The picture was frozen for a second before leaves fell from the top of the picture and the couple's twirling began again. 'IT _DID...IT...THE PICTURE..THE PICTURE JUST MOVED!'_ Harry almost gaped at the picture as he stared blankly at the photograph in exasperation.' _This confirms it! This is an entirely new world!.Maybe.'_ Taking his eyes off the photograph his eyes fell onto the television. _'It easily could also be a different time or a different reality.'_

He frowned thinking logically upon this new reveal. ' _If I'm right and I haven't been reborn in my own world then just where am I? I'm going to take a wild guess and say it is most likely be an alternate reality or a similar world. Going by their clothes, the television, the modern looking hospital I was born in, and the moving pictures, it is logically either an alternate reality or just simply a similar world to my own.'_ He paused in his thoughts for a moment to process this new found situation as he stared back blankly at the twirling figures of his new found mother and father. 'But _if that's so that just means I am a stranger in this realm. I know nothing of this place.'_

As his thoughts began to fully understand the situation at hand. His thoughts turned bitter. _'Being a stranger to this world means, I have no information on this world. I know nothing on it's culture, its people, its technology. I know nothing on anything!'_ Harry was angry he hadn't thought of this before hand. Angry at how stupid he was for just assuming just because he was reborn he would end up in a world like his own or be born in his own world. Angry at how he now had to live in a world he knew nothing about.

Harry farrowed his baby brows in thought as he cleared his mind of the strong emotion. _'At least this world is better than ending up in hell or oblivion. But if I want to survive here I have to get knowledge of this place and fast. If I know one thing, it's that knowledge is power. Knowledge most specifically of where exactly I am. I know I must be at that 'Godric's Hollow' place that Dumbledore had been talking about before he went popping off with my father and co. But where exactly is 'Godric's Hollow'?_ ' Looking down at his baby hands he frowned deeper in thought. _'I'll have to learn to move in this new body first, but for now I think its best to become the silent but ever vigilant observer.'_

 _*Time skip- 5 months*_

Harry watched as his father read the newspaper as he sat in his high-chair for dinner. He read the title of _'Muggles Massacred in London_ ' with a moving picture of some men taking the sheet covered bodies from the rubble onto stretchers. Harry had learned months ago that he was in a sort of parallel world to his own. The date on the first newspaper he had saw confirmed this as it had written that he was in 1980. This revelation had made him give up an the idea that this was a different time as moving photographs would be an impossible technology for that time. Harry had figured he must be in an alternate world for the reason as he had recognized many geologically similar places from his old world to this one from watching the old television as well as for the reason that this world had similar histories when the tele had happened to switch to the history channel. The occurrence of the same London back home also made him hold firm in his beliefs that this world was an alternate to his own with the similarities it was unlikely not to suspect. It had it's similarities as well as its differences so it was very unlikely that this world was a completely different one as there would be way too many coincidences. The only logical explanation Harry could come up to this world was that it was an alternate version of itself to his own.

Upon observing this new place Harry had learned a lot of things about his new world. He finally knew why they let the old codger known as Dumbledore enter into the house, even though they both detested him. Apparently Harry's father is a part of this worlds police force as the Head Auror, and he takes part in saving helpless civilians from the terrorist group known as Death Eaters from their AK's. Harry still doesn't know what an AK is or what it does, but he guessed it was some sort of laser gun or something similar to a laser gun after he had overheard his dogfather describing to Remus the horrors of a flashing green light that almost killed him. James as being head of this Auror force he is forced to associate with Dumbledore's little vigilante group that is named the 'Order of the Phoenix' to keep them in line.

His dogfather is also forced to tolerate the mans company it seems. His dogfather is second to James's in Auror status as his deputy making him as well, forced into association with the group. Harry had overheard a great deal about Sirius hating the old man because the old codger thought he was dark. He didn't know what to make of the conversation. Harry felt that the information was important to remember. He didn't know why the old man being color blind and racist was important information but he had filed the information away nonetheless. His gut had told him it was important, and his gut instinct had never been wrong before. Harry used it as another reason to hate the man. _'You can obviously just see by the way he dresses he must be color blind or maybe the reason he can't see color is because he looked at himself in the mirror. Becoming blind just like everybody else that looks at him in his too bright attire.'  
_

His mother just hates the man because he just seems off to her. He remembers overhearing his mother talk to his father about how Dumbledore was spouting nonsense again being forced to listen to another one of Dumbledore's rants about his ideas of good and bad, light and dark. He assumed it had to do with the vigilante order so he filed the information away into the recesses of his mind for later.

Harry remembers a very drunk Remus Lupin burst through the door when he was turned down from an interview to be a school history professor for just being a werewolf. He ranted on and on about how old Dumbledore was a racist bigot. He ranted that he only turned into a dark monster one night of the month, just one night. He then gathered himself after his two hour rave about how werewolves are just misunderstood. Seeming to sober up a bit as his slurred still when he proceeded to apologize to James and Lily for not believing them that the old fool is not as kind as he seemed to be. He also slurred an apology for coming to rant at them drunk in the middle of the day about it. He remembers James saying it hadn't been a problem and that he should come over for drinks more often if he was this open about himself if he drank this much. Lily had huffed saying it was just one more reason to hate the meddling old man.

Harry filled away the information as it gave me one more reason to claim that the man was indeed no good. If he was ever confronted about his behavior towards Dumbledore he now had more information about the man to back up his claims. Harry always felt the man could prove to become a threatening existence. He wanted all and any knowledge to use against him when the time was right. He didn't know why he felt this way, but his instincts were screaming at him not to even look at the old codger. If that was any indication that Harry shouldn't try to protect himself against him he didn't know what would. Harry didn't feel any fear towards him, he just didn't like him much like his mother just didn't like him.

He filled the information concerning Lupin, confirming that werewolves did in fact exist here. Harry also made a promise to himself to find out if these prejudices involved with werewolves had any truth to it. If the term racist Lupin had used was right it would be a shame if this world was also riddled with similar prejudices of my old world, though they would be _slightly_ different. If they did have any truth to them then Harry vowed he would change it. Harry may be an killer, but he does not tolerate prejudice. 'If in death we are equal then so it should be in life' was Harry's motto in this life or the next. He remembers all of the rally's he had gone to for the complete equal rights for men and women of all races, and for the rights of certain groups such as LGBT as well as several religious groups. He remembers protesting laws banning books in schools, laws that made it so certain peoples were watched or restricted, and laws that banned certain people from certain actions. He may love to cause people pain, but he caused pain or harm to anyone he had wished, he never believed in targeting specific people for just being them. He still had his own sense of morality. His own morals, no matter how hypocritical it may seem. Just because he was a cold bloodied killer doesn't mean he can't care about something or someone.

Harry paid the most attention to when his parents spoke of 'The Order of Phoenix' or the 'Death Eaters'. He learned a surprising amount about the fighting involved. Apparently this world has never known the concept of deadly force. They choose to stun and apprehend the 'Death Eaters' who target a group of peoples called muggles, instead of killing them. They would choose to capture people who wouldn't bat an eyelash to kill them instead. They would choose to apprehend people who wouldn't choose to do the same for themselves. It made no sense to show mercy to people who wouldn't to you. _'There is no logic in this society'_ Harry shifted in his seat getting impatient at his waiting for his mother to finish cooking and to finally set the table.

He remembers meeting that fat rat of a man. He had meet him soon after waking up to his new home where his father introduced him in the same antics he used at the hospital. He looked like a rat. He smelled like a rat. He must be in fact a rat. Harry could literally smell the disloyalty in the air whenever he was around. Peter, as he was called, looked to be even more traitorous when he flinched every two seconds whenever someone had spoken to him or addressed him. Harry didn't like the look of him. Peter felt out of place to him. Harry could just feel that he had alternative intentions against my new family and he didn't like that when he was a part of this new family. This was _his_ family, after all.

He refused to be near the man. Just like Harry refused to even look at Dumbledore, but only this time Harry felt like he wanted to glare daggers that would disembowel him. He didn't just not like Peter he absolutely hated the sniveling rat. Harry didn't know this man's intentions so he refused to associate with a man who felt and looked to have alternative motivations to being here. He refused to look at a man who could turn out to be a rat. _'Just like the mafia hated rats, assassins hate rats even more so, and I am an assassin who really-really hates rats.'_

He remembers the other man he was introduced to at the time as well. But instead of hating the man he absolutely loved the man. Severus Snape, as he was properly introduced by my mother as my father incorrectly mocked him as Snivellous, was a kind man despite being horribly sarcastic at any given moment. He was snarky, intelligent, dark, and altogether sweet individual. _'If only he ever washed his hair he could be the catch of the century with that handsome face of his!'_

Harry thought to himself while staring into the kitchen. ' _Is she ever going to finish with that?'_ Harry's thoughts took a different root as he watched his mother beginning to open the cupboards to set the table. _'I wonder if this new family will pick up on my murderous thoughts or my too fast maturation anytime soon?'_ He had figured they would just take his crawling and walking at five months as a sign of becoming a genius or a prodigy or something. At least he hoped they will figure that is what he was. He had yet to speak, but he didn't want to freak out his new parents to much... _yet_.

He was broken from his thoughts when Lily had broken a glass. She took a strange stick from her pocket that looked to be polished and have a handle for holding it at. She waved the stick in intricate movements as he felt the air thicken and stifle in what he could only account as pure raw power. Harry held his breath as he watched the energy gather into her body, glowing white as it flowed through channels of her body into a circular object in the middle of her chest, then he watched with growing fascination the energy being tossed out from her stick-like object making the shattered glass move and repair itself like it never even happened.

The air lessened in it's intensity as the white pure energy strands that surrounded my mother dispersed. Her energy channels faded back into her body as Harry breathed out the breathe he had forgotten that he was withholding. Harry watched with curiously as he stared at her circular object that still had yet to fade. He looked at her face. He looked at the stick. Then to her face again. Looking down at her now dubbed core. Harry felt his hands hum with something he didn't know he had. He starred at his hands in fascination.

 _'...Looks like I have something to research'_ Harry felt the dull hum grow into a pleasant rhythm as it circulated his body into, what he now called, his core. He sat staring at his hands as he tried controlling the circulating of power. He began to feel the flow of power from his channels circulate faster going directly into his core or moving to be placed just in a single body part such as his hands or his feet or his hands. He made the strange power flow circulate all into his core, storing it there. He felt more of the strange energy from early go directly into his channels from the environment. Making it circulate again. He storing it all back into his core. When he felt the energy from the environment again fill his channels, he stopped circulating the power as well as stopped trying to store all of it in the core. _'Interesting'_ He smiled brightly as his mother gave him a curious calculating stare. ' _Now just how do I use it? Or better yet what do I use it for?'_

*Time Skip Two Weeks*

* * *

 ** _~-XxX-~_** _~-_ _Part 2- Life just got more interesting._ _Power.-~_ _ **~-**_ ** _XxX-~_**

* * *

Harry sighed in his mind. He had spent ages trying to figure out how to use the mysterious powers hidden just beneath his skin. He had decided weeks ago that the only way he would be able to use this power is if he settled on something to create as his mother used her power in a similar way -only she used it to fix, not create like he was trying to do. Harry had focused on trying to create a toy snake with his power.

He remembered the toy snake from his not so happy childhood. _'The only present I had ever received from the nuns,' I thought morosely._ He had been so happy to have something that was all _his._ Something that he hadn't had to share with others. Harry frowned at the thought of what had happened to what was suppose to be only _his_. Seething in anger as the oncoming memories hit him. He remembered the previously _pure_ white snake hanging from the ceiling above his bed from a noose with its stuffing ripped from its belly all over his own bed with half of its being charred black from someone burning the fabric, and its ruby like button eyes ripped from the fabric handing loosely from a stand. _'Too bad the other orphans didn't like me having something that was mine. They just had to try to break me. They just had to see me sad and broken over the remains it'_ Harry smirked when the new assault of memories overtook him. _'But I got my revenge. They became the ones to be broken'_ Harry remembers those unfortunate orphans. They had laughed when he had seen the toy broken on the bed. He remembers jumping on the boy. Straddling his waist as he chocked him, and chocked him, until he lost his will to fight him. He had _only_ chocked him half to death and enough to leave angry purple marks in the boys skin for weeks, not any more not any less. He'd chosen him to be an example. A warning. He'd chosen the one that laughed at his misery first, not the one with soot on his fingertips. No. Harry wanted the other not to feel physical pain, but emotional pain. He wanted him to feel what Harry had felt that time. He wanted him to suffer more then he did. So he saved his revenge for later that evening. He had disemboweled and skinned the boys 'precious' little hamster, roasted it a bit over the orphanages stove, plucked the hamsters eyes out making them hang loosely from the sockets, and hung it from the rafters above the boys bed. Making sure to leave the hamsters own 'stuffing' on the boys bed as well. _'Nobody but the stupid nuns dared to try to break me after that, but even they paid their dues'_

Harry had decided to create a replica snake as it was from his own childhood at that time as well as try to make his parents less suspicious of him. _'A toy would definitely be less suspicious then let's think...a replica of my sliver knifes'_ He wanted his mother to think especially so. Harry had indeed noticed the calculated glances his mother had given him. Harry had never had a real family before. He may have lived with a foster family for five or so years before going to boarding school, but he saw them as his care takers. Not more. Not less. His new 'family' to him were only his new caretakers. They may have brought him into this new existence, but to him they were only there to make sure he was alive and provide him with some entertainment at most. Harry didn't want his new family to suddenly have a reason not to care for him. He wanted to endure them to him. He let them see only what he wanted them to see.

However he found it boring to act as a child for so long. He found amusement in letting just one of his parents see a little of himself. It was comical to him. Harry found his enjoyment tormenting his mother with showing his too high of intelligence to her and her alone. Letting her see his cold calculating glares. Harry let her see the cold detachment in him. Only one of his many masks that weren't totally masks. It was more a part of him than a full mask. His 'mask' was more like a mask crafted of a single aspect of himself. The mask, as it almost is, had many layers. It was almost like a maze of walls that separated him from showing his true colors -his true self that lay hidden in the middle of the maze of walls. What he showed her was only one realm closer to what he was. He showed her the first mask. The mask I aptly named dark apathy.

What he showed the others was a façade at what he had been at a similar age. He showed the others his old forgotten innocence. What he showed was more a memory than it was a mask. He showed the others a version of that happy, giggling baby that was once untainted. Only a memory of what he had been. A dark reminder of what once was.

He let her see what no one else saw. A layer closer to him. He lowered the wall maybe out of respect for her carrying him or maybe thanking her in a way for it, but it was probably more likely only for his own amusement. It was manipulation at its finest. He wanted something to amuse himself with, and since he had once taken similar amusement in peoples thoughts and emotions playing upon peoples faces he did the same to her.

It was humorous to him to see her shake her head denying anything being out of the ordinary with her son. Trying to discern her thoughts as nothing more then what they were. As if what she were thinking were _just_ thoughts and nothing more. He just loved seeing her doubt herself. Loved seeing her face as she began having second thoughts on my actions and behaviors. Loved seeing her trying to rationalize what she was seeing. That is why Harry wanted to make sure she had no suspicions of him. He _so_ wanted his entertainment to last for as long as he could make it last. He didn't want to have to kill her just yet, and he was sort of growing fond of the red haired women.

He shook his head from his thoughts and memories long past. Harry continued on letting his power flow slowly through his channels. He focused on imagining the snake in his minds eye. He tried focusing his power outside his body to create the object. He frowned in disappointment. He looked upon what he had created instead of what he had wanted to create. His power was simply shaped in the form he had wanted it to take. The white light had taken form he had wanted. The power was shaped in the form of a white snake with red light colored eyes, but it had not solidified into a physical manifestation. It was only momentarily a ghost of the toy that it once was before the power that held it together was drawn back inside his channels. ' _I guess it has to have something attached to the physical plane for it to work'_ Harry mused at what he could use to transform. His walls faded momentarily as he grinned a feral manic grin that truly did not belong on a child so young. _'I wonder if I could use the oxygen in the air to solidify it?'_

Harry focused in his mind on the object he desired circulating the power within his small body. He began focusing the power to solidify the molecules of air, unraveling them into something heavier then what it once was as well as added more weight to it. He combined the dense molecules with the already circulated energy from his channels. He willed the energy air to take the form of what he desired once again. The only difference this time around was that he combined the ghost-like snake that he willed into existence with the heavy energy infused oxygen molecules. He continued focusing on the power to further make the object take solid physical form. He willed the energy to take ,not only the appearance of the snake, but the texture as well as have more detail than it's previous version. Harry looked upon the object. It had worked. No longer would the snake transform back into the energy particles.

The object, though lighter then what it should have been able to be, is exactly as he remembered it to be - _if_ not greater than how he remembered it to be. It was the same pure white, but this time the scales held a great more detail. The same ruby eyes, though now they are real rubies ingrained in its fabric. The same softness. Harry giggled as he held the snake close to his body. This kind of childishness Harry didn't have to act to show. He was purely happy at having his childhood toy revived .

* * *

Harry's giggles caused his parents to see what he had gotten into. Because if it was one thing Lily and James both knew(as well as any other parent) it was that when a child giggles like that it's usual out of mischievousness _-especially_ if you were from the Potter line. It was widely known to anyone who has ever met a Potter that if you were of Potter decent, you were known to cause a 'little' trouble. When James and Lily walked into their son's room they were not expecting to see their son playing with a toy snake that they most certainly did not gift him.

"James did you give him that?," Lily questioned as she observed her child's genuine giggles with scrutiny. She knows that she has never seen that snake before so the question on her mind was _'Just where did it come from?'_

"I didn't...You don't think?," James began looking excited at the very prospect. The prospect of their son already haven done accidental magic would truly be incredible. James broke out in a wide maniacal grin. He said in a put upon _superior-than-thou_ voice, "We _could_ scan it to see if magic was involved."

Harry looked up at his father shock filling his being, though not showing his father that he felt shook at his words or else he would figure out as well that he understood them. _'Magic? Magic is what I can do?!'_ Harry felt incredible joy at this revelation. He has always known magic to be that of fairy tale in his world so having something completely fantastical almost made him giggle in mad glee. _'Magic! Oh what I could just do with magic'_ He cackled at the gruesome prospects of just what he could do, but the sound that came out his infant mouth sounded more like a child's giggle then the insane laughter of a madman as it should have been.

His laughter stopped when his father drew a stick like object from a holster that was hidden beneath his sleeve. He saw the gathering of green color around his father as his channels absorbed the power. The power unlike his mother's had instantly channeled into the stick -that Harry now had the realization- that it must be in fact a wand instead of just some common branch. He heard his father whisper something under his breath as the power shot out of the wand with a grey-green light, wrapping around Harry's toy snake before being drawn back into the wand and into his fathers' channels towards the channels that linked them to the brain before being drawn into his father's core then being dispersed into the surrounding environment.

Harry switched his glance to his mother as she looked upon him. _'I don't think they can the see power. I Don't think they can even feel it through their channels either..They use it differently as well like how they use words to enforce the magic and their use of wands as a conduit..It also looks as if they keep their magic stagnant when they don't access it...Curious? I'll have to look into this to see if this is a natural regular occurrence or not'_

Harry's was startled away from his thoughts as his father burst out in gleeful laughter. James grabbed Lily spinning her around several times in a happy crushing sort of embrace. "It has magic residue on it!," James laughed before kissing Lily, dropping her out of the embrace and doing a sort of jig like dance -much to Harry's amusement.

Lily, bewildered at having been spun around too many times, leaned against the wall for support. "That's impossible...He's only six months old," Lily said quietly, exasperated.

"Magic doesn't lie, Flower," James smiled, "But it is truly astonishing that his accidental magic is showing this early." James suddenly burst out laughing madly cackling in insane glee. "And _I_ get to brag about how my son is absolutely amazing," James drawled glaring a false sort of glare at Lily.

Lily catching on to that false glare sighed in exasperation. "I won't steal your thunder James," Lily reassured. Lily grinned as she put her chin in her hand in thought. "Just make sure you don't blow things completely out of proportions. We don't want the old man to get any ideas, but I don't want to relieve you of your bragging rights," Lily admonished, "Plus if he conjured a toy snake I bet he's going to make a great Slytherin." Lily laughed a barking laugh as she saw the put off face her husband was making.

James sighed, but a grin soon surfaced on his handsome face, "You do realize that the real Slytherin's never get placed in Slytherin right?"

Lily flinched back in fake shock. "Are you saying you would have been made Slytherin?," Lily questioned innocently. Seeing the gleeful like on his face as well as the mock bow he made. She smiled in amusement. "Looks like I wasn't the only one who tricked the dirty hat was I, but we already knew that?," she announced with a wide grin.

A fake look of disgust was plastered on James's face. "I married a _slimy snake,"_ James spat the words jokingly as he continued in a breathy loving tone as he sighed,"and I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

 ** _~-XxX-~_** _~-Part 3- The Power that is Usually Kept in the Library. Knowledge.-~_ ** _~-XxX-~_**

* * *

Harry was having the best day ever. Harry having had lived a brief twenty something years before feeling the best day ever actually meant a great deal to him. After having found out he possessed magic he gradually learned that this world is not as he had thought it was. It was indeed an alternate reality from his own, but he had made some wrong assumptions about it. He only got half the answers to the questions that plagued him until he had found that all too wonderful heaven that was filled until bursting with old leather tomes.

Harry had tottered into his family's library when Serius had fallen asleep when he was babysitting him. He being free from watchful eyes had done the only reasonable thing and went exploring. He knew he could finally now find the answers to the ever growing questions that have been eating away at him. Harry picked tomes off the dusty black shelves that would help him answer him. He grabbed _A History of Magic* , Wizard & Witch Culture & Custom, Magic vs. Muggle, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them*, Magical Creatures*, and Ancient Law* ._ He choose these six books from the one's that taught magic mostly because he knew that knowing magic is useless to know for him for now. Harry knew that he must first know of his new people to find out what he's dealing with. He wants not only to knew how to act around them, but he wants to know how to understand them now that he finds that he is one of them as well. Harry _definitely did not_ pick up those specific tomes because they were the closet to the floor for his short infant stature to reach.

He knew that he had to read the six texts quickly. Harry had an edict memory so he really wasn't worried about how quickly he read. The first book he decided best to read was _A History of Magic_. It was very informative on the subject of history as it had been written that it was one of a kind book that self updates itself. It told of real magical events such as the Salem Witch Trails. How they despite all that occurred there had decided to erect a school in many of the victims honor as many had left their grimoires behind it had the largest library in the world. It wrote of many historical figures, some of them ancient and some of them recent. One Sherlock Holmes of Ravenclaw had caught my eye. It had written how he was one of the only recorded peoples to be able to see and feel magic as a mage as well as have an edict memory. It also described how he had went to be the greatest Auror in the magical world, but I mostly ignored that point of being. It detailed he still despite being a mage he still required usage of a wand/staff as he wasn't magical powerful enough to not rid himself of it. Harry was fascinated by this newly acquired information. He was apparently a special sort as it detailed that their were only twenty-seven known peoples who have been known to have such a power. Harry grinned as he read over the details of how Sherlock Holmes was the last known as all others had died before his time as well as how none others have been born, because of the declining magical population as well as the pure-bloods having less and less children.

Harry continued to read _A History of Magic_ until he stopped at a name he recognized. It had been written that Dumbledore had defeated a dark wizard that went by the name of Grindalwald in a duel of the ages. Grindalwald was a wizard who had tried to overtake both the magical and muggle worlds through force. The writing went on to detail how Grindalwald and Dumbledore were some of the last magical powerful wizards who could use wandless and wordless magic. It also went on to describe how the formation of the Order of Phoenix was formed after this to stop any more rising Dark Lords. Harry was stunned. He didn't think the old codger was in the least bit magically powerful. _'Best I stay away from the old man more then'_

He read on about the recent war the was going on. It had occurred to Harry that it was similar to Grindalwald's War, but it was still very different. Voldemort only wished for the take over of Britain's M.o.M. so his so called war was thus on a smaller scale. The book detailed on how he had created the persona Vol De Mort or Flight/Thief of Death because he wanted to show he would willfully go until death for his cause as well as him being capable of killing for said cause. It detailed how his name had been forgotten to the ages, but his past was still written of. It went on to write of how he had tried to fight for rights of creatures, use of all magics equally and the separation from muggles via democracy with a group who had similar beliefs called the Knights of Walpurgis because most of the groups members were dark inclined, grey inclined, or neutral. The ministry had never passed any bills made by them, the group had decided to dissolve and reform into the now known Death Eaters as their peaceful protests have gone unheard for way too long. They declared civil war on the ministry, causing chaos. The group Order of the Phoenix from the last rising of a Dark Lord had decided to intervene. The Death Eaters used any means necessary to achieve their goals going as far as to use the Unforgivables, a group of magic that was deemed to dangerous by the ministry for the public to use. They mostly use the curse **_Avada Kedavra_** also known as the killing curse for their take over as it was believed to be the simplest course of action.

Harry was surprised. It appeared that this world was worse off then his previous world had been. Restriction of magic, restriction on peoples, but a separation from the group called muggles. It intrigued him that the rights group went so far, but what Harry did not understand is why the rights group sought it necessary for separation.

Harry decided to pick up _Magical vs. Muggle_ to find out. He had guessed what muggle could have meant been he hadn't actually known for a fact. He read that muggles were people who were of a race of humanoids born without magic much like how squibs were born without magic except that they didn't possess magical cores like squibs do. It detailed that squibs, though, have magical cores could not access the magic as their channels that connected to their core were severed or blocked from birth. _'Interesting...Has no one sought to fix their magical deficiencies?'_ Harry skimmed through the pages looking for anything that could help to understand the need for separation until he found it.

It had written about the statute of secrecy. A law that magicals had since the Salem witch trails. _'That explains it then, muggles don't know about us and if they did most will probably see us as a threat. These revolutionist want separation more for protections against them then for segregation'_ Harry understood the importance of separation of peoples especially with the growing technology the muggles had. Harry knew from his world with the separation with the great wall helped the countries come to a standstill from warring. He felt that a separation will keep the magical and muggle from warring because as long as the muggles never know they won't ever try to eradicate them. Harry knew for the matter that the statute won't hold, especially with the matter with squibs and muggle raised/born children. Harry knew that the only reason all muggles don't know of magic is because of mind magic as the writings described the use of a branch in the ministry that mentioned memory modification when situations arrive that would call for it like instances where muggles had seen accidental magic or a witch/wizard had broken the statute. He knew that only by luck had they not been out by the muggles.

Harry decided that he would help the revolutionaries now more then ever. He had heard from his father,James, that they were sadistic and ruthless bunch as he had fought them three times when the fighting had first started four months before he was born. He remembered his father had spoken about how he along with mother had during those three times faced off against the leader Vol de Mort and how absolutely insane he was as well as how much a genius he was. Harry smiled a grin that didn't belong to look on a infant. _'I believe them and I will get along swimmingly'_

Harry picked up another book as he began reading about his new culture.

*Time Skip-Halloween- Night of the Potter Family Massacre*

Harry had learned a lot of magic and a lot about the magical world. He was of course not so happy about a lot of things of his new world. He was disappointed to find out how racist and corrupt it was. He knew he had to change it if the revolutionist didn't win. He may be a very cruel demon of a person, but he still had a code of a maybe morally corrupted saint. It might be insane of Harry to think that everybody does deserve to be treated equal even when he was a homicidal manic, but Harry wasn't exactly sane now was he. He treated everybody equally when he killed them so why should he treat people otherwise when he wasn't killing them. Harry was just a conundrum of contradictions. Simple as that.

Harry had learned a lot from his family tomes. He was a little miffed at how most of the Potter's tomes were 'light' orientated meaning he couldn't find a single book on the more 'sensual' magic. He did find only a single tome that detailed the unforgivables, but he was miffed at how boring they were. The _**Avada Kedavra** _ or the killing curse, the _**Cruciatus Curse** _ or the torture curse, and the _**Imperius Curse**_ or the mind Control Curse were the unforgivable curses.

These three cruses were probably the most boring curses that Harry had the _pleasure_ to read. The **_Avada Kedavra_** just killed a person. Harry didn't just want to kill a person like a puppet with cut strings. Harry wanted to watch as the light slowly left their eyes. Harry wondered how Vol De Mort could put up with the boredom that will cause. The **_Cruciatus Curse_** was another boring curse. It caused pain -extreme pain- but who cares about the pain when you become numb to the curse after your mind breaks in thirteen minutes or so or when you're like me and you're immune to such pain when you block it out of your mind as you're only so aware of pain as long as your brain receives the illusion of pain. The **_Imperius Curse_** was mildly more entertaining, but to Harry it was just a false feeling of control. _'These people must have never felt the fulfillment of torturing a victim into submission to think using the Imperius is quality entertainment. I would bet that they never felt the wonderful feeling that I've felt when I've just broken a mind into moldable clay so they can never even wish to ever go against me.'_

Harry had decided after testing these three curses that he would give them more flare. He made a way of combing the **_Cruciatus Curse_** with an **_Avada Kedavra_** , it was entertaining to combine the two curses but boring to actually watch. He became more creative with the three curses. One of his new favorites being an edit to the **_Imperius Curse_** It was with a unique combination of the torture curse that broke the victims mind allowing the imperius not to be broken as well as to allow control for several hours before it was followed by a rendition of the killing curse with the exception of the victim using the curse on themselves automatically with a twist of it being felt more slowly like it was as if a dementor had taken ones soul like he read about in _Ancient Law_ for executions.

Harry wanted a way to defend against the curses as he read that no shield could ever stop them, not just to make them amazing. He found out that **_Avada Kedavra_** were not that invulnerable as to be believed. He found that as long as something was in front of the curse it would be destroyed such as with a shield formed of the materiel or more condensed form of oxygen. The only reason that an **_Avada Kedavra_** can't be blocked is because it is usually tried to be blocked by magic not an object or anything that was not a material. Harry found that the Imperius could also be broken by mental fortitude much like how it could be with the **_Cruciatus Curse_** as well as how it could also be blocked the same as with the **_Avada Kedavra_** when cast. _'Wizards are truly moronic aren't they?'_

Harry had learned that by both being able to cast wandlessly and wordlessly as well as being able to see and feel magic made him a high mage. Harry thought that magic must have made him such because he was born on a non-magical world in his previous life and as such he would have a hard time in believing otherwise. He was after all someone that only believed in what he saw for himself.

Harry was _totally_ 'fake' playing with the toy snake he had crafted when he heard his father reassure his mother that the mad man wouldn't be coming anytime soon. He turned towards his mother grinning as she sighed. He knew she was actually thinking of himself. _'How I love playing with peoples minds'_ His face went back to a neutral state when they turned towards him. Harry wondered how long his entertainment will continue to last since it's already been past a year and a half since he began his little schrod. He knew it would probably become irritating fast with all the glances at him and all as he wouldn't be able to practice all the more 'destructive' curses later on with all the attention focused on him.

She went over and picked him up awkwardly as she brought him to his room and into his crib. Harry did not like having an infants baby. Harry found that infants had to sleep more. It irked him as in his old life he was an insomniac and wasn't used to sudden bouts of sleep. Harry frowned as he yawned. He soon found himself feel the need to sleep. _'Damn intolerable infantile body'_

Harry was startled awake by his mothers scream. _'God damn that women'_ Harry opened his eyes as the green light hit his mother in the chest. _'Well I'll be damned. He did come for me in the end'_ Harry looked up at the pale shrouded man as he pointed his yew wand toward him. Harry smiled a smile that looked to be more angelic then what he intended it to be. The man looked to be taken aback as he back up two paces, but he hardened his resolve as he flicked the curse towards Harry. Harry smiled at what he intended to be a smirk as the spell collided with the wall of condensed oxygen, but much to Harry's astonishment the man had overpowered his own magic destroying the wall of condensed magic and oxygen, making the spell bounce back at the man. Harry fell back with a slight scream. The soul shard left the man as he was hit from the rebound, and into Harry. In doing so enacting his mothers sacrificial magic. A wraith appeared where the mans body was destroyed by rebounded spell leaving only the attackers wand and cloak. Harry was in excruciating pain, but he soon blocked it out as he felt the soul merge with his own. The wraith screamed before disappearing elsewhere. _'That was...interesting. I hadn't realized.. that the amount..of power used could... effect the shield...'_ Harry sighed as he passed out from the exhaustion and pain at having been forced to absorb the others soul as he couldn't eject it like how he had tried to without damaging himself because of his mothers sacrificial magic tethering the soul to himself so unless he wants to lose his own soul he had to absorb the soul piece.

* * *

Chapter 2/? Edit- 2/20/2016

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Note-This and the other chapters will be under edit for an indefinite amount of time.

 _ *****_ **Real Texts that were** **taken from the _ Original H.P Series_** _ **:**_ _A History of Magic;_ _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them;_ _Magical Creatures;_ _Ancient Law_


	3. Demisi Congeries: Chapter 3

**Warning: Mentions of** **Torture,** _Mentions_ **Non-Graphic-Rape** (Never Anything Graphic) **,Death, Abuse, Sex, Foul-Language, and Homosexual-Relations.** _(Minor warning for Harry being underage during most of the sexual scenes)_

 **Main Pairing- Voldemort/Harry** (Harry may flirt or be intimate with others before he gets together with his dear dark lord)

 **Second Warning: ManipulativeDumbledore! _Psychopathic?/Sociopath_?Harry! _Slightly_ ApatheticHarry! SadisticHarry! SarcasticHarry! KindVoldemort! InsaneVoldemort! SadisticVoldemort! ****AlternateReality/ReincarnationHarry! AssassinHarry!**

* * *

 **Summery-** _Harry Potter wasn't always called Harry Potter. He also wasn't always male. In another life he/she was master assassin Agent. He/she was the stripper Fantasy. He/she was the med-student who hated his/her name. He/she was the mysterious killer in the paper who was never caught, paid or not for the killings. Reborn with memories intact. He will go on to seduce dark lords,overturn the wizarding world, and he will make Dumbledore look like the fool he is._

 **A/N:** _I tend to change up POV's and write in erratic bouts of madness during sleep depravation so be prepared for grammatical errors and spelling mistakes as well as drastic changes in plot via random edits after I review my writings when less tired/crazy._

 **Rating: _18+_** _( NOT FOR SENTITIVE OR YOUNG EYES)_

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 _'Thinking thoughts unspoken words,' I/she/he/(name) or 'Thinking thoughts unspoken words' I/she/he/(name)_

 **~Parsletongue~** I/he/she/(name)

"Speaking aloud 'enthused/sarcasm/quotes/quotations' talking words," (NA)/I/she/he/(name) or "Speaking aloud _'enthused/sarcasm/quotes/quotations'_ talking words," (N/A)/I/she/he/(name)

 ** _.:SPELLS:. Spells, Potions, Rituals, & Texts _or ****Spells, Potions, Rituals, & Texts **& _'Books'_

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 ** _WARNING SPECIFICLLY FOR THIS CHAPTER_** _: Has sexual situations between males. Don't like it don't read._ _(Minor warning for Harry being underage during most of the sexual scenes)_

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 ** _~-XxX-~ ~-Chapter 3-~~-XxX-~ _**_(5 Parts)_

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 _ **~-XxX-~** **~-Part 1:The Babe on the Doorstep. Dumb as a Door Dumbledore-~** **~-XxX-~ (Harry's POV- First Person)**_

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' _Damn it.' I seethed in anger -or as angrily as a fifteen-month old could- which, admittedly, wasn't much. 'Who leaves a fifteen month old babe on a doorstep in November. Fuck it's freezing.'_ I shuddered from the cold. ' _Wait until I get my hands on whoever did this!'_

I fumbled around in the stiff cotton sheet of a blanket so I could get detach my arm from the tight confines of the rough cloth that I was _too_ tightly wrapped in. I fumbled in the blankets for what seemed to be forever just trying to loosen myself from the blankets tight hold on me. Finally my arm popped free from its confines of the starchy material to hit what felt like to me to be an envelope after having my skin brush across the familiar feel of the old archaic parchment. The kind of parchment that the magical people tended that was laying on top of the sorry excuse for a blanket.

 _'Hello? What is this now?'_ I fingered the envelope's seal with my small chubby digits as I brought the letter up to my eyes. _'Strange. That looks like the Hogwarts crest.'_ Breaking the seal of the envelope I began to read the letter.

* * *

 **Dear Petunia Ivy Dursely nee Evans,**

 **I regret to inform you that your sister, Lily Rose Potter nee Evans and your brother-in-law, James Charles Potter, have been murdered by Lord Voldemort in their home on October 31st 1981. The only survivor of the attack was their infant son, Harry James Potter. His survival was because of your sisters blood sacrifice causing the disappearance of Lord Voldemort. I suspect that Voldemort has not perished as our world assumes and as such I have sent young Harry to be protected by you. The blood sacrifice will protect young Harry, and you as well as your family, but only should you choose to take him in. Should you not for any reason take him in he, you and your family will be vulnerable to the Dark Lord and his forces.**

 **My Condolences,**

 **Albus Percival Walfic Dumbledore**

 **Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump, Lead of the Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot**

* * *

' _Petunia? As in Lily's - - my mothers - - horrible non-magical sister Petunia? The one that supposedly hates my mother Lily and refused to go to her and my fathers wedding? Yeah no way in the seven realms of hell (if they do so still exist despite my rebirth) am I staying here after discovering the joys of magic. It is cruel and unusual punishment to stay here when I could be learning new magic's. Damn it! It's that old coot Dumb as a door Dumbledore's fault placing me here away from my new discoveries. I knew-I just knew he was no good. Leaving me -A BABY- out in the cold. I could die from hypothermia out here! When I get my hands on that bastard they'll have to have to write a new definition on the word pain.'_

Not wanting to stay in a place where I would likely be subject to whatever schemes Dumbledore planned for me, I willed my internal magic to ignite the letter then I banished the ashes not wanting to leave any evidence.

' _Now I'll just lie in wait until they most likely take me to the all so familiar environment of an orphanage. Hopefully a government run one and not a church run one. A church run one would likely not be for the best what with my history with the religious now combined with my new magical status. It would just be a disaster waiting to happen, what with the churches prejudices in things they can't understand -in other words me.'_ (A/N: What I write is entirely fictional)

Casting a quick heating charm upon the starchy blanket I soon felt my eyelids grow heavy. I fell into morphus soon after. I dreamt of talking snakes who spoke of immortality, the gleeful torture of innocents, and a shadowy forest full of dark whispers and a formless wraith that I somehow just _knew_ was somewhere in Albania. I was jolted awake by what seemed to be the screeches of a musical sympathy comprised of freshly plucked mandrakes and a choir of shrieking banshees.

' _Oh. Will you look at that? It seems my lovely horse-faced prejudiced Aunt Petunia has come to grace me with the songs of her people. I wonder what's wrong? She looks kind of like she's about to faint from lack of oxygen. Breathe we can't have you dying by hypoxiation before I'm taken to an orphanage.'_

"Honey? What's the matter? Tell me, dear, the neighbors are beginning to stare," what looked to be a large whale human hybrid asked as it waddled towards her much like a penguin would do to gently sooth Petunia.

"Vernon, there's a...a...baby..on the doorstep," Aunt Petunia breathed out after a few calming breaths as the whale-like being came up behind her.

"Well is there a letter or a note or something on him?," Vernon questioned calmly rubbing his Aunt's shoulders lovingly, "Let's bring him in to find out shall we?"

"Why do you think the baby would have a note on him?," asked Aunt Petunia picking up the basket carefully and walking inside to the _too_ clean, _too_ organized, and _too_ normal household.

' _Ew! Are all the walls in the house this egg-shell white color? This looks like the very picture of a mental hospital if I've ever seen one and believe me I have. All that's missing is the padding and the padlocks. This reminds me too much of my old life. Help me I'm going to die of cleanliness and OCD organization.'_

Aunt Petunia walked into the _too_ clean _too_ white kitchen and placed me and the basket upon the hard white granite of the kitchen countertop as she searched around the basket none too gently as I watched -who I now guessed to be- my uncle walk to a pristine white table, sit on a white wooden chair -making it creak slightly-, and eat his half-finished breakfast.

"Usually in the movies they leave a note," Uncle Vernon finally answered in between bites of some very bacon.

' _Watch where you're poking you bad baby handler!,' I mentally yelled as I glared as menacing as a baby could glare at her, which wasn't much as it looked more like I was just squinting up at her rather than glaring._

"Nothing on him," Aunt Petunia said dejectedly,"What do you suppose we do now?"

She looked over at her husband as he read the newspaper and ate the last of his toast that was on his plate.

' _When did he find the time -or room for that matter- to finish that bacon and work on the toast? There had to be at least fifteen pieces on that plate!,' I thought only slightly amazed at how fast the man could pack it away._

"Well we can do nothing more for the boy and we already have our own child to think about so I suppose we take him to the nicest orphanage we can find," Uncle Vernon proposed as he stood from the white wooden chair,"I can take him there on my way to work. They just built this nice looking orphanage _just_ around the bend from there."

"Alright. Be safe on your way to work," Aunt Petunia kissed his cheek waving him off and went over to coo at her chubby son -someone I just now noticed was in the room- who was happily throwing baby oatmeal on the floor and into his mouth disgustingly.

"Goodbye love," Uncle Vernon smiled lovingly at her, picking the basket up gently and walking slowly out the white kitchen, white entryway and outside to the all too identical neighborhood to his car. He placed the basket with me inside in the backseat of it while taken off his jacket and tucking it between the seat and the basket so the basket didn't move around or fall over. He then shut the door gently. He started the car and we set off.

A few minutes later, the car jostled to a stop and the door opened gently as I was once again picked up. I lifted my head up with some difficulty -because of the still tightly wrapped blanket- to look at my new surroundings. The orphanage looked to actually be a pretty nice place. The building was three stories tall with large windows and painted a bright happy sunshine yellow color. The property had bright healthy green grass, surrounded by an almost picturesque white picket fence, and had what looked to be playground equipment peaking out from behind the building slightly. I could also hear some children laughing and giggling nearby.

' _Here I thought I would be at a cryptic orphanage or a ruddy church again. I never thought an orphanage would like this nice.'_

I was carried inside of the brightly colored building, down a corridor that was full of happily laughing children, and brought into an office that I assumed was the head matron's. I feel asleep at some point during the dull conversation between the matron and Vernon. I was jostled awake a few minutes later after being handed a bit roughly to the matron.

"And you say you just found this sweet little thing on your doorstep? No note? No identification? Nothing?," my new caretaker -and my new entertainment- questioned with a shocked and almost scandalized expression on her face.

"None at all. My wife opened the door to get to her gardening when she looked down and to her utter disbelief she saw a child. She didn't know what to do so she settled for screaming hysterically," Vernon laughed good-naturedly.

"At least you see the humor in this situation," the matron sighed with a gentle smile,"just thinking of the paperwork I have to fill out makes me want to go into hysterics as well."

"Well I really have to be off to work if we're finished here. It was a pleasure meeting you and I hope not to see you with another odd situation like this again," Vernon said taking a glance at his silver wrist-watch whist laughing.

"I hope so Mr. Dursley. I hope so. Goodbye then," she mumbled with a small smile as she looked down at me,"Let's see...you shall be dubbed from henceforth on Hadrian James Potter until further notice. Okay?"

I blew raspberry in agreement.

 _'Oh, how I love magic.'_

* * *

 ** _~-XxX-~ ~-Chapter 1: Part 2- Grand Plans Failed. Some Slight Similarities-~~-XxX-~ (Dumbledore POV-3rd Person)_**

* * *

Dumbledore sat in his office in resignation. Sighing, he pulled out a bottle of firewhisky from his desk pouring some of it into a glass he transfigured out of a quill.

"How can my plans be _interrupted_ like this," Dumbledore spoke aloud to no one in particular. He looked at the curly script on the addressed letter on his desk in resignation. "I hope he just- _he just_ didn't turn out like another orphan I once knew," he sighed.

He heard a knock on his door.

"Come in,"Dumbledore sighed again for the third time and probably not for the last time.

" _Albus_ ", Severus addressed slowly. " _Mind_ telling me just _why_ it is you felt the need to interrupt _me_ in the _middle_ of my _very_ _delicate_ potion work by calling me _here?_ ," Severus stressed, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"Yes, actually. I was wondering if you would come to introduce young Mr. Potter to the wizarding world?," Dumbledore inquired with his best pleading tone. Dumbledore knew he couldn't allow Severus to refuse because of his petty grudge against James. Dumbledore _needed_ a second witness if Harry turned out to be another Tom Riddle. This time he wouldn't be looked down upon like he was for being the only one to see through Tom's manipulations. He wouldn't allow it.

"Why? I thought he grew up pampered like a prince. Couldn't he just go with his _relatives?,_ " Severus spat venomously as he crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorframe.

"No, I'm afraid not. It would seem his relatives had brought him to a local orphanage instead," Dumbledore sighed slumping in his chair behind his desk, almost visibly ageing before the potion master's widening eyes.

"Orphanage? But you said- _you said_ he was doing fine and was spoiled rotten in that horrible muggle house or was that all- _all just_ nonsense!?", Severus snarled after he took a few moments to register what the headmaster was telling him, and running to the oak desk in front of the Headmaster, slamming his palms onto the hard surface in all his dramatic flurry, and taking large panting breaths of air to try to calm himself from his anger.

"Ms. Frigg _thought_ she saw the boy on several occasions and _thought_ that they must have locked him inside the house rest of the time. It would seem that she was wrong and he wasn't there at all," Dumbledore lied, straightening in his seat and not at all taken aback by the Potions Masters outburst.

Severus sighed. _Seemingly_ having lost all his anger as he almost visibility deflated. He flopped gracefully in the chair in front of the desk. He transfigured a glass from an inkwell and helped himself to the whiskey. He poured a full glass -emptying the bottle- and downed it in one go.

"You should never have trusted that old bat. You knew she only cared for those horrible cat mongrels of hers," Severus grumbled angrily,"Bloody squibs."

"You will come then?," Dumbledore asked pleadingly.

"Yes of course I will," Severus muttered like it was obvious that he would,"When do we leave?"

"Now," Dumbledore answered quickly. "That is, if it's not too much trouble?," Dumbledore added as an afterthought to not seem too eager to see the boy.

"Not at all. Better to get it over with now than to wait until later," Severus uttered setting the glass back down. Severus stood and walked to the fireplace as he grabbed a fist full of thick green floo powder from a metal tin. "We'll meet at the three-broomsticks and apparate from there," Severus announced without giving Dumbledore time to respond he threw the powder into the fire, called out the floo address for the three-broomsticks, and disappeared from the room. A few moments he was followed out by Dumbledore who did the same.

* * *

Dumbledore didn't knew what to expect after he and Severus apparated from the three-broomsticks. He vaguely entertained the idea of seeing an identical orphanage from his memories where he had first meet with Tom Riddle. He never really entertained the idea of a large picturesque sunshine yellow colored building that just screamed happiness with the happy laughter of children off and playing in the near distance.

"This place is ghastly," Severus grimaced at seeing the brightly -almost _too_ brightly- colored building,"Let's hurry along before my eyes start to melt out of my skull from exposure."

As he and Severus neared the building he got a deep sense of foreboding. Dumbledore trailed apprehensively behind a hurried Severus. Dumbledore's gut instincts were just screaming at him to run in the other direction as they neared the glass doors of the almost unnaturally cheerful building. They quickly entered the wide double doors. They both walked side by side down the lavender colored hall until they stopped behind the dark oak wood door of the head matron's office. Severus politely, though a bit impatiently, knocked three times on the thick wooden door. After a quick come in from the other side of it, Severus went in followed by himself.

"Hello? To what do I owe the pleasure gentlemen?," a haggard looking matron inquired lazily who was sitting behind a large antique looking desk. Her grey-brown hair was frazzled looking, loose strands were stuck crazily out of her messy bun, and knotted. She was wearing a grey worn pants suit that was torn in places with had paint, grease, sweat, and food stains on it. She had wrinkles and stress lines despite only being in her early thirties which made her look far older. Her small office was clean, organized, and had only a desk, three chairs (one behind the desk, two in front), and a filing cabinet.

Severus sneered at the woman's ill-appearance, but didn't comment on it. Both just choose to ignore it, and go directly down to business.

"We're here about for a Hadrian James Potter about a school his parents had enrolled him in when he was born," Dumbledore chirped cheerfully.

"I'm sorry, but the only person I know who goes by the name of _Hadrian_ wouldn't have had his parents enrolling him in any school," the caretaker said, eyes darting to the door as if looking to escape from the conversation.

"Prey tell?," Severus inquired with pursed lips, crossed arms, and a single brow raised as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Alright...To answer your question, he was brought here by a portly gentlemen whose wife had found him on his doorstep just eleven years ago. No name, just the clothes on his back, a starchy blanket, and a basket. I named him myself then and there," she smiled a faint smile at the last thought then sighed as she slumped in her seat.

"Ah. I believe he may be the one we're looking for," Dumbledore quipped," Coincidence can be a funny thing. Though if he is who we are looking for, you getting his first, middle, and last name correct is one huge coincidence. Can you tell us anything about the young Mr. Potter?"

"Well. He's a bright young lad. A genius really," began the caretaker, her tone something akin to almost fearful awe. Dumbledore swallowed.

 _'This is just like it was with Tom,'_ Dumbledore thought. He didn't like this at all.

"You'll still take him if he is who you believe him to be, right?," she inquired hopefully, and wincing in slight fear for having asked. Yes, Dumbledore did not like this at all.

"Yes! _Of course_ we will," Severus scuffed like he was almost offended at the very thought of it.

"He _scares_ the other children -not the younger of course he gets along famously with them- and strange things seem to happen around him -only around him,"she squeaked out, visibly paling.

"What type of strange things?," Severus questioned. Pushing himself away from the doorframe as he tilting his head to the side in inquiry.

"Animals flocking to him - _especially_ butterflies for some odd reason, toys repair themselves, objects shaking whenever he's angry or upset. _Sometimes_ I feel as if he...he could read my _mind_ or _control me_ and my _emotions_ but that's just _crazy_ right? Crazy. Crazy," she admitted. Her eyes looking slightly wild, making her look a bit insane.

"Let's go meet him shall we," Dumbledore sighed in relief. It just sounded to him like what regular accidental magic looked like from a normal muggle women's perspective.

" _I was beginning to think this would end up like Tom Riddle's caretaker had," he thought._

After the matron pulled herself together and apologized for her breakdown, she lead them down a lavender painted hall, up a staircase, down an honey colored corridor, and to a dark wooded door labeled with the numerical three on a silver plate on the wall.

She knocked three times. "Hadrian you have two visitors," she shakily uttered. She stood waiting for an answer, her fingers slightly twitching, and her lip quivered a bit.

"Wonderful. You may send them in," A musical voice replied from behind the door. She opened the door for them then turned on her heel and fled.

* * *

 _ **~-XxX-~ ~-Chapter 1: Part 3- The Magic of Illusion. The Perfection in Deception.-~~-XxX (Harry's POV-First Person)**_

* * *

"Lo gentlemen. What can I do you for?," I inquired with a teasing smile dancing upon my lips.

I tilted my head in irritation after they didn't answer my question or move from the doorway and just seemed to stare at me for a couple of minutes as if they were petrified. I shut the thick dusty tome that I was reading with a loud thud.

I slide gracefully down from my perch on the windowsill, making the black and white butterflies stir off my body momentarily before they settled back onto me in my long waist length braided black hair. Sighing in a mixture of exasperation and annoyance. I went over to my metal framed bed since the two didn't appear to want to move any time soon. I plopped rather than sat on the edge of it and crossed my legs.

"Take a picture it will last longer," I huffed after they continued to stare from the doorway.

I glared in irritation at the continued reluctance to enter. "What are you two vampires? Do I need to personally invite you in or will the both of you came in to sit down," I snapped.

Snape was the first to snap out of his daze as he dramatically glided in and sat in one of the two opposing chairs from the bed followed by DumbleButt soon after.

"Now _gentlemen_ what may I _inquire_ are you _here_ for?," I purred. Uncrossing my legs, and recrossing them.

Snape cleared his throat,"Has anything strange ever happen to you?"

"Why yes I do believe it has," I chirped merrily catching both Snape and Dumbledore off guard as I stared at the bridge of Snape's nose.

 _'He has a perfect Roman nose,' I noted absently, 'I am a little bit jealous of it's regal-ness.'_

"Do you know how that is by chance?," Snape inquired regarding him with suspicious eyes.

"I'm sorry fellas, but you see I can't go spilling all my secrets without introductions. So would you please be so kind as to speak your names and as I'm a highly suspicious person I would like you to please state your business as to why you're here inquiring about my person?"

Dumbledore looked outright shocked and Snape just looked blank.

"Sorry. It would seem we've forgotten our manners," Snape ground out through his teeth before addressing himself and Dumbledore,"I'm Professor Severus Snape from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and this is our school's _'esteemed'_ Headmaster Albus Dumbledore."

"Hadrian James Potter and I'm sorry to say that your headmaster looks more or less untrustworthy in my book," I explained with a half-hearted shrug, causing Snape to go back into his blank like state again -which I was beginning to think was how he showed his shock- and Dumbledore to gap incredulously,"I apologize that was very rude of me to say, but it's just you don't see a man everyday with a beard that long and wearing a suit of just that color yellow without immediately thinking he's either senile or an eccentric billionaire. I was more inclined to guess senile than billionaire. Sorry again, that was rude of me. It is just I was always told honesty's the best policy and well sometimes the truth can be a bit harsh or in this case rude."

Snape's blank mask broke momentarily as he quirked his lips in a quick smile before fading back down into his blank mask. Dumbledore just looked resigned.

"To answer your earlier question now that we've acquainted ourselves, I have always known I have had magic since the day I was born. I have memories of it after all," I exclaimed in all seriousness making it seem as if I remembered my own birth (Which I do but that was besides the point) as I folded my hands underneath my chin. Starring intensely at a very interesting wrinkle on Dumbledore's forehead that was between his brows that I could've sworn wasn't there a second ago.

"Are you trying to tell us you remember your own birth?," Snape asked incredulously with both of his brows raised.

Dumbledore seemed to age visibly and look even more resigned if that was possible.

"Kidding," I giggled manically grabbing my sides as the laughter rocked through me. After a moment it subsided. I wiped the tears from my eyes and grinned. "You should see your faces right now. They. Are. Hilarious. You guys need to _lighten_ up a little. You two are way too _Sirius,"_ I said causing Dumbledore to twitch nervously, and look a little guilty. "In all _Sirius-ness_ (Dumbledore twitched again much to my amusement) I actually found out after I talked to this little green garden snake I found in the yard as it spoke to me. She told me I was a speaker and a wizard, _though_ I do like to be refired as a sorcerer or mage as it doesn't hold any gender roles like witch and wizard do."

"You're a parsletongue?!," Snape gasped mask falling completely away, and emotion finally showing through going from shock to than confusion,"And what was that about gender roles?"

"Well if parsletongue means that I can speak to most animals then yes, _though_ speaking snake flows more naturally off the tongue," I answered ignoring his last question entirely,"Now before you can continue to question me like in those cop shows on the tele in interrogations with the whole old good cop bad cop act, can I ask you as to what you're here for? Seeing as you're staff from a school of magic I can only assume I'm being inducted into your school of cult-like things. Am a correct?"

"Well yes...Your parents Lily and James Potter left a vault and money for schooling for you after they passed," Dumbledore spoke frowning slightly in a poor attempt at manipulation,"They were killed during the war with the dark lord Voldemort, sacrificing their lives for yours."

"Sacrificing their lives for mine," I breathed out in faked shock letting my shoulders fall slightly in mock resignation,"They must have been some awfully wonderful people if they sacrificed their lives for mine. I mean, it takes an awful lot of love, courage, and determination to look death in the face and say no for someone else's benefit -even if it's their owns sons. I know plenty of people who would've just left their own children for dead if it meant living just a day or even an hour longer. My parents must have probably been very strong and loving people if they did that all for me."

Snape frowned looking down at his feet deep in thought. Dumbledore just looked happy at this announcement.

"Though I have to wonder why they had to sacrifice themselves for me," I mused aloud. "I'm not that special and there's probably loads of more special magical babies out there at that time," I added causing Dumbledore to pale in the process."Maybe I was just there at the wrong time and place then," I finished nodding my head in acceptance causing Dumbledore to relax in his seat and regain his lost color.

' _What a wonderful game this is,' I giggle evilly in my mind._

"As much as I would like to continue this," Severus drawled," I really must go back to making those potions for Madam Pomfrey. So headmaster if we could quickly take young Mr. Potter to gather his schooling materials?"

"Yes, come along and we can show you to Diagon Alley," Dumbledore agreed quickly.

"Oh that's quite alright, Headmaster. I can go do that by myself, so long as you give me directions to said alley I can take a London Bus there," I argued good-naturedly while dramatically waving my hands in front of myself in refusal. "That is if it's possible to take a bus there anyway?," I inquired slowly as not to seem to quick in my refusal of their help.

"Yes it is possible. It's on Charing Cross Road in a pub called the Leaky Cauldron and if you ask for Tom -he's the barman by the way- he'll open the alley for you," Severus hurriedly answered him so as to get back to his potion making faster and in doing so not giving any room for Dumbledore to insist upon their 'help'.

Leaving just as quickly as they came after a moments hesitation from Dumbledore. I smiled a cute devilish smirk on my red pouty lips.

' _Time to put eleven good years of planning to good use,' I thought giggling manically out loud as the butterflies were transfigured into their original snake forms hissing their complaints at my rough handling of them._

 _ **~I'm sorry, but did you see there stunned faces?~ I half-heartedly apologized.**_

 _ **~Yes I did snakeling, but imagine their faces if you were covered in snakes~ the eldest snake who had beautiful white scales with mesmerizing blood red eyes hissed back making the others hiss in agreement.**_

 _ **~You're so right that would've been so much better, but harder to explain my cute butt out of~ I sighed.**_

 _ **~But it would've been soo worth the trouble wouldn't it?~ the snake interjected.**_

 _ **~Damn it Balthazar why are you always right~ I pouted.**_

* * *

 _ **~-XxX-~**_ _ **-~Chapter 1: Part 4- The Art of Personas. The Stage is Set. ~- ~-XxX-~ (**_ _ **Harry's POV-First Person)**_

* * *

I stepped off the red double decker bus and made my way to the grungy pub.

' _Have they ever chanced cleaning the place,' I thought inspecting the building, 'I think the dust on the windows is up to 6 inches thick.'_

The building looked ancient. The grey paint looked as if it was trying to escape from the building, and I could barely make out the flaking gold lettering displaying its namesake.

' _The leakey cauldron, more like, molten cauldron from a reject potion,' I thought dejectedly,'Shouldn't they at least care that they look like shit. Whoever thought this is a good idea to introduce precious muggleborns into society should be made to scrub those windows clean with their bare tongues.'_

I walked swiftly into the building, ignoring the looks they were giving my person as I was -once again- curiously covered in butterflies. I walked with a swift lethal kind of elegance, that would have made any pureblood weep with envy, to the bar counter.

"I was sent here by a Headmaster Dumbledore and a Professor Severus Snape to inquire about a Tom to open the alley for me to gather my school supplies," I professed to the barman that I knew for a fact was Tom the barkeep by having been here under glamour before. The bar was silenced -though there was a few still ongoing conversations- when I spoke sending my musical voice echoing throughout the now near quieted bar.

"Is that so? Are you sure you're not a pureblood?," Tom inquired with a raised brow.

"A pure-what? Is that some sort of magic thing?," I asked fanning ignorance while extending my hand to the barkeep,"Hadrian James Potter apparently." The bar became _dead_ still after that.

"Boy-who-lived? That Potter?," Tom asked taking my hand and shaking it once before dropping it.

"Yes, I apparently survived the Dark Lord if that is what you're asking, but I simply _must_ correct you on that strange name you called me. That boy-who-lived nonsense is _mostly_ incorrect. I survived yes, but I heard that my parents were the ones who sacrificed their lives for mine so it's more correct to say I am the boy-who-survived or you can just call me Hadrian or Harry if you like," I pointed out while out of the corner of my eye I saw a turban wrapped man regard myself with an intense, almost soul searing, gaze. I was for a minute surprised at feeling him have two souls and the immense amount of dark magic waving off him, but shrugged it off. It wasn't any of my business if someone possessed someone else.

Before any so called fans came up to me -as I saw some people in the bar about to do- I dropped my nice act. "I honestly speaking have no idea of how I survived that AK so don't ask. I myself wondered that maybe it was some fluke or folly of fate or just my Potter luck as I heard we're famous for _possessing~,"_ I mused aloud enunciating the last word dramatically with a slight hiss of parseltongue causing the entire pub to jump almost all at once (to my amusement) in response and causing the possessed man to shudder. "Now if we're done with this nice little _torture session_ I would really love to get to my school shopping before the shops close because if this _interrogation_ takes any longer I would rather just take some _**Veritaserum**_ and be done with it. So can you _Tom_ (I said with the same hint of parseltongue, causing the turban wrapped man to shudder slightly again)open the alley or do I have to find another way through the looking glass."

"Sorry, I tend to be a bit suspicious of people as of late. I'm Tom by the way," Tom stated finally and shrugging shly. He walked out from behind the bar counter and motioned me to follow him.

"Don't blame yeah for being suspicious, I'm a highly vigilant -bordering on paranoid- person myself. You never know when you're going to run across a person who may not have the purest intention to your person _especially_ if they're asking after your person," I proclaimed smiling innocently as I spied what looked to be the famous Auror mad-eye Moody looking me over at the back of the pub and added,"My motto and life lesson is 'constant vigilance' and 'question everything and anything', but those are only second to my first life lesson and motto 'honesty is the best policy'."

"Those are some good things to live by," Tom nodded walking still and opening the door to a dead end.

"If this is Diagon Alley, I'm sorely disappointed," I sniffed fanning disappointment.

"No this isn't Diagon Alley," Tom verified, chucking slightly,"Just the entryway watch me and when you get your wand do the same as I do." He lightly touched his wand to the bricks, making them move apart like a curtain revealing the same Alley I had traveled to and from under glamour.

"I can honestly say that I am no longer disappointed," I sniffed again with nonchalance,"Thank you for helping me Tom."

"No problem, if you ever forget the order of the bricks just ask me or a customer for some assistance," Tom replied with a blush.

"Alright, I'll maybe see you on my way out then. Maybe. Now I'm off to Gringotts~ The land of gold and greed~," I sang happily skipping from the entryway as I did, noting the two magical presences following after me. One with two souls, the other with a wooden leg and a magical eye.

* * *

Humming a funeral march as a skipped to the odd white marbled roman architecture styled cake-shaped disaster of a building. Barely even glancing over what was written above the door before I felt my transfigurations on my snakes fall away. I felt the presences stop before the entrance as they saw how my butterflies turned into snakes, and I felt they now knew that their disillusionment would most likely falter and they would be revealed should they follow me into the building.

"Oh darn it I was sure that those transfigurations were spelled with parselmagic," I voiced aloud to seemingly no one in particular,"Must be the goblin magic or something of the like."

 **~Go outside and wait for me, my darlings, while I finish my dealings. Okay?~ I hissed.**

Some of them hissed protests and insults about overly paranoid goblins.

"Now shoo~ None of that whining," I chastised slipping into english so they learn more of the language and so the goblins and the non-speakers will know I mean no harm. "You know the magic peoples are terrified of you _little_ snakes for whatever silly reason. I mean you are all just so cute~ how could something so cute be so terrifying to them," I cooed at them.

The snakes hissed back denying the very existence of cuteness. Hissing that they _were_ _terrifying_ and _not cute_ _at all_ and that they had a reason to be scared of them.

"You're cute end of conversion. Zar I know for a fact you like to cuddle when you think I'm sleeping," I chastised narrowing my eyes on the white snake with red eyes.

 **~I do not cuddle. You. are. delusional. It must have been Scales who cuddled you~**

"You can deny it all you want Zar, but Scales likes to sun bask more than to cuddle," I pointed my finger at Zar accusingly, "You can't run from the love _Zar_ , no matter how much you wish to deny my love."

 **~Wait for me by the entrance and hide yourselves so the magic folk don't kill you or run screaming for the hills because your cuddles are so terrifying~**

Some of the snakes hissed in amusement at my antics while others hissed in denial as they slithered out the entrance, masking their presence as they did.

I gracefully walked the rest of the way ignoring the amused or the terrified stares as I went directly to the head goblins desk.

Clearing my throat I began,"I was wondering if I could speak to someone about my vault, a solicitor for me and someone I know that is in need of some _Sirius_ legal help, and sense I don't have any means of identifying who I say I am -a blood inheritance test- as well as speak to my family goblin about an audit on my vault as I have a suspicion that my _not-so-legal_ magical guardian has been tapping into my vaults _illegally_ as I know he has my vault key (Since Dumbledore only mentioned the trust vault and not the rest of my inheritance, I assume both to be true), and that he didn't even bother to hand over to me on this day."

The goblin looked a little taken aback and gasped when he processed the information on hand. The goblin cleared his throat. "Can you repeat that last part?," he chocked out finally.

"Which part? The not so legal guardian? That this so called guardian has my key? Or that he may or may not be stealing from my vault? I think we should probably take the blood inheritance test first to attest to my identity as being Hadrian James Potter before we continue."

"Alright. Follow me then Mr. Potter," The goblin said with a long drawn out sigh.

"Thank-you," I said bowing my head and following the goblin. He lead me through a series of dizzying maze-like corridors and into a sparsely decorated office with a gold plate with the name of the Goblin -Now known as Griphook via the nameplate- etched into the plate in large swirly script. "I'm afraid to say that you're going to have to lead me back through that minotaur's maze that you call a hallway when this is all well and good," I reckoned.

I sat down on the strangely hard armchair that looked like it was suppose to be soft yet felt like I was sitting on a hard uncomfortable rock. "Do you know just how ironic these chairs are?," I asked with a quirked brow. "They look soft yet feel like stone. Amazing work, I must say. I am willing to bet it keeps business short and makes people 'cut to the chase'. A very wise business decision on your part," I praised patting the chair still slightly amazed at it's irony.

Griphook grunted in agreement and pulled a sharp wavy ceremonial dagger from the desk, and a piece of archaic spelled parchment.

"That is one snazzy dagger," I praised again as I was handed the dagger, and placing it within the center of my pale palm. "So how many drops do I need to _donate_ to this parchment for the blood inheritance?," I inquired whilst eyeing the silver dagger appreciatingly.

"Just three… _ah,_ " Griphook began but ended with a sigh as I shallowly cut my palm before he could answer.

"Sorry, too late it. It seems I was bit impatient," I apologized while bowing my head again, and not looking the least bit sorry. I handed back the dagger to the goblin. I watched in a sort of morbid fascination as three drops of the blood was absorbed into the paper while the rest rolled off the paper, staining the wood of the desk red. I focused my magic silently to heal my wound, and to clean up the spare blood. I stared at the parchment in curiosity as the three drops of my crimson lifeblood spread out to form dark blood-red letters.

* * *

 **Name-** **Hadrian/Harry James Potter_** **Physical Age: 11_Mental Age: ?**

 **.**

 **Parents-**

 **Mother- Lily Rose Potter nee Evans - Status: Squib Descended (Deceased)**

 **Father- James Charles Potter - Status: Magical Descended (Deceased)**

 **Blood Adopted Father- Sirius Black - Status: Magical Descended (Incarcerated)**

 **.**

 **Guardianship Appointed in Order (Nullified guardianship if lordships are taken up)-**

 **Sirius Orion Black, Remus John Lupin, and Severus Tobias Snape.**

 **.**

 **Abilities- Parsletongue, Parselmagic, Wandless magic, Wordless Magic, Formless Magic, Occlemancy, Legimancy,** **Mage Sight (Colored),** **Mage Sense, Mage Magic, ?** **Nullification of the Unforgivables?, Unbreakable Will, and** **Luck.**

 **Inheritance- Potter(Lordship), Peverell(Lordship), Gryffindor(Lordship),Hufflepuff(Lordship),Ravenclaw(Lordship),Slytherin(Heir), Grey(Lordship),White(Lordship) Lefey(Lordship),** **Emrys** **(Lordship) and Black(Heir)**

 **Monies total:579,815,533,839 (Currently)**

 **Properties total:13**

 **Black Family Home (Right given up by Lord Sirius Black on account of Blood-Traitorism),** **Potter Family Home,** **Godric's Hollow (Whole & House), ****Peverell Manor,** **Grey Manor,** **White Manor,** **Hogwarts 3/4, A** **zkaban Fortress,** **Lefay Castle,** **Emery's Castle,** **Hufflepuff Valley,** **Ravenclaw Tower,** **Diagon Alley 9/12**

 **Other-Ability to claim 9 lordship titles(Emancipation upon claiming),** **Ability to claim 2 Heir positions,** **Ability to rein over 17 Wizengamot seats (7 more from Black(4) and from Slytherin(3) when/if appointed lordship by current lord** **)**

* * *

"Well that certainly is interesting," I whistled not at all effected by the new wealth and political power I now wielded. I handed the parchment back to the goblin for confirmation. "Looks like I'm more than just a Potter," I drawled.

The Goblin took a shaky breath as he stared fixatedly at the paper. "Yes, defiantly than just a Potter," he agreed slightly dazed.

"Funny how things turn out, isn't it?," I chuckled, "From pauper to prince, eh? Anyway since I have way too much monies in several different places and in several different vaults, I was wondering if there was any way I could get like a muggle credit card like thingy?"

"Yes we have something of the sort. It would cost about one hundred Gaellons for a card. Seeing as you don't have to worry about money for until next eternity, you don't have to worry about the cost, however most wizarding shops don't embrace the card system ,but you should be fine buying whatever you want on the muggle side of things. We do have a specialized wallet that most wizards choose to buy that connect to all current accounts allowing to take either muggle money or wizarding money by just a thought and a bit of magic," Griphook said.

"Wonderful. I'll take both. One card and one wallet please," I requested cheekily.

"These are spelled anti-theft, and keyed to your blood and magical signature if you would press your thumb to both the card and wallet," Griphook informed as he summoned the two items.

I immediately placed my thumb on the card and yelped when it took a lick of my blood and magic.

"You could've warned me that they bite," I glared at the goblin with my piercingly sharp green eyes.

"More fun that way," Griphook grinned a bit evilly,"Now the wallet"

"Are all goblins sadistic are what?," I muttered placing my thumb onto the wallet yelping again as the wallet 'bit' me like the card had done.

"Okay~ Now onto the next order of business," I began before taking in a long draw of breath,"I need your most ruthless solicitor on-call for my rightfully dubbed dogfather/supposed-guardian Lord Sirius Black who was falsely imprisoned under the accusations of ' _everybody knows that is was him_ ' (According to my research) without anyone actually knowing what went down that night as everybody still obviously had hangovers from partying over the Dark Lord's and my parents death without giving him a rightful trial. I ask you to withhold going to the ministry or the press with this information until we find the actual criminal."

Exhaling sharply and taking another long draw of breath I continued,"When we apprehend the rightful criminal with evidence I wish go to the press first and wait for the first paper printed about the wrongful imprisonment, and about the actual criminal before sending someone to the ministry to release him on the grounds that he was wrongfully accused. If they argue to wait for a trial before his release argue the longest you can withhold a prisoner without a trial is a maximum of fifteen days. It being eleven years I think it's long overdue."

I quickly exhaled and quickly inhaled before I began again."I also want an investigator looking into and for the rightful prisoner of one Peter Pettigrew who faked his own death by killing _those_ thirteen muggles, cutting off his finger, and transforming into his rat _**Animagus**_ form framing Sirius Black for the crimes he committed. I believe Albus Dumbledore can attest to Peter being secret keeper as he was the one who cast the _**Fidulus Charm**_ as well as Sirius Black and Remus Lupin can both attest under **Veritaserum** of Peter being the secret keeper for my family's home in Godric's Hollow. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin can also attest to knowing that Peter Pettigrew was a rat _**Animagus.**_ Any questions?," I finished panting a bit at having spoken so much so fast without taking in all the needed oxygen so I could quickly finish my business before my snakes get bored and try to eat someone just for the heck of it.

"No. I'll do all I can do just to knock that old bastard down a peg or two and this is just _perfect,_ " Griphook smiled an evil smile.

"Wonderful, my mother never trusted him and neither do I, in fact, I hate how his nose is in everybody's business where it shouldn't be," I growled, "Make sure the minister doesn't try to kiss Lord Black when the news does get out. Our best bet is to relay this to the prophet and ask for Rita Skeeter (She had such a way with twisting words that it impressed him when he first bought a wizarding paper and read her article) and tell her all about nasty little animagus beatles spying on unsuspecting people is a bad habit and how registered animaguses of such a kind is two years minimum in Azkaban -that is _if_ she's lucky," I smiled a ruthless evil smile. Mage sight was truly a gift as it not only allowed a the mage to see a persons magic skill, affiliation, core, and base personality, but also their magical animal forms -that is if they choose to develop them. "Oh and since I own Azkaban I do wonder if it means I can expel anyone I don't want inside to outside the wards?," I mused absently, a plot forming on how to use this to my advantage,"Though I do wonder how I own Azkaban?"

Griphook smiled a equally ruthless smile,"Yes, I think you're right I wonder what would happen if you just so happened to free the innocent and probably mad Sirius Black. Or if the Dementor's got loose on the Ministry's watch -and I do believe that Azkaban used to belong to the long past Lady Melrose White"

"So blood inheritance done, since I'm technically emancipated by gaining the lordships I don't need a solicitor for that, solicitor for godfather and lord check, ah yes an audit of my vaults, and a talk with the Potter goblin who is?," I trailed.

"I am coincidently it. I apologize for all the trouble that in my negligence I may have caused," Griphook admitted frowning and looking slightly guilty.

"No trouble at all. You couldn't have known. Anyway you hate the bastard just as much as I do after having seen that vicious smile gracing your handsome face," I dismissed as he turned a dark shade of emerald that I can only assume was a goblins own unique way of blushing. "Anyways," I continued,"I need an audit of my school vault and any other vault Dumbledore may have had his sticky fingers on. I need you to change the locks, as well as somehow magicing the key from any who would try to use or if it could be easier on you, and your fellow goblins just moving the gold from all my vaults into a single one."

"Can be done, but you just want to remove the key and access from Dumbledore?," Griphook asked raised a scaled brow.

"For now," I purred grinning evilly,"I wanna see him squirm."

"And you said I was the sadist," Griphook lectured with both brows raised.

"Problem?," I teased raising both my eyebrows in question.

"No. It's just you didn't seem the sort," Griphook coughed blushing a deep emerald green.

"Oh?," I sent him a questioning gaze before I continued with my business," Anyways sense business seems to be done and over with all I need in turn are my lordship rings for proof of emancipation via magics decision. Hush-Hush on the whole Black deal until we find Pettigrew, we'll also have to wait to see what the turnout of the audit is and see if I need to press legal action against the old bastard for theft as well as pressing for the kidnapping and negligence charges. I'll tell you about that later. I still need to get to my school shopping so if you need to reach me, you simply can just send me an owl as I do believe I'll take up residency at the Black family home."

Griphook nodded as he summoned several papers and a blood quill as well as eleven rings all with their own crests.

"Oh no I don't have enough fingers for the amount of rings. Is there any magics that can combine them?," I inquired furrowing my brows in over-exaggerated worry,"I won't have to wear one on my toe will I?"

Griphook rolled his eyes."Yes, I can combine them all except for the two heir rings which you'll have to wear separately of course," he informed.

" _K'_ Do I have to wear them on a specific finger or something?," I questioned.

"Yes. You'll have to wear the lordship ring on your left ring finger and the heir rings on the right hand on the ring and middle fingers," he answered smiling as he blushed. He magicked 9 out of the 11 rings into a single ring,"Hand please."

I raised my hand forwards as he slipped the combined ring on my slender long finger. He blushed an even deeper shade green until he was almost a deep green-black color. He continued on to do the same with the heir rings, blushing all the same.

"Now just sign here and you can go back to your shopping," Griphook sputtered. Still blushing the black-green color. I read through the parchment quickly, signing my name at the dotted bottom line.

"Now that this is all taken care of I can go have a little shopping spree with my new found wealth, stimulating this shrinking economy, and in turn growing the goblins coin. Goodbye Griphook, I'll see you later, It was lovely doing business together," I spoke as he showed me out of the room.

The Goblin grunted in acknowledgement. "May your gold flow," Griphook said after leading me out of the office and out of the maze hell that they call a hallway into the main tellers area.

I finished the old goblin announcing with my own little twist to it to the entire hall, "And may your enemies die horribly, preferably, in torturous agony," I paused and added as an afterthought and an evil little smirk, "Especially if said enemy is like mine enemy - _Dumbledore._ "

* * *

I walked past many stunned teller goblins and stunned wizards alike as I felt the 2 presences still waiting for me at the entrance. As I left Gringotts all my snakes launched themselves at me from their hiding places before turning into a stunning display of black and white butterflies nearly giving any and all passerbyers a heart attack. I dramatically bowed muttering to myself,"Snakes and their cuddly nature and their separation issues."

' _I wonder which of those 2 presences just giggled?'_

I skipped down the white steps of Gringotts whistling the same grim funeral march as I went to the robe parlor for my uniform, some formal robes, and some casual robes.

"Well time to get the proper _secret magic cult dress_ for _secret magic cult things_ ~," I sung aloud to no one in particular.

' _I swear I heard one gasp and another stifle a giggle. I wonder which one did which'_

I walked into the parlor with a bell tinkling above me as I was followed in by the 2 presences who entered quickly and silently behind me.

"Hogwarts dear?," a portly woman asked.

"Yes. And I was wondering if you made formal and casual robes,?" I inquired with a tilt of my head.

"Yes of course right in the back, but before then lets get you fitted for your Hogwarts robes. May I ask how many uniforms, and robes you would you like," she said.

"Seven Hogwarts, seven formal, and seven causal in case I need to wear either for every day of the week,"I announced," I do like to come armed for anything. Be prepared for anything and everything, a little life lesson of mine that I had picked up."

"A good lesson if any to have," she nodded absentmindedly as she measured my arm. The bell chimed from another entrance on the other side of the store,"Can you wait a moment dear so I can greet the new company."

"No problem ma'am. Patience is a good trait to carry and just so happens to be one of my many more favorable characteristics," I stated as she left.

I decided to have some fun with my guests -read: entertainment- and spoke aloud to myself, "I wonder if wizards wear underwear underneath their robes?"

" _I heard two stifle their laughs"_

"If they do what _then_ about witches?," I quired to myself putting my chin in my hand and closing my eyes momentarily in a thoughtful pose as the butterflies shifted throughout my hair.

' _Oh. Aren't they stunned silent. Bet they never thought of that.'_

"I hope you don't mind Mr….,"The tailor trailed off.

"Lord Hadrian James Potter-Grey-White-Peverell-Gryffindor-Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw-Lefey-Emrys, Heir Black, and Heir Slytherin, but if that's too long for you to remember you can always call me Lord Hadrian, Lord Potter, Mr. Potter, or just Hadrian or even Harry if stuffy politics or talks of warring factions of magic with the whole light vs. dark rather than varies shades of gray and magic as a whole thing isn't your cup of tea," I announced flashing my combined ring on one hand and the two heir rings on the other momentarily before they returned to their invisible state.

' _I love stunning people into sweet hilarious silence,' I cackled evilly inside my mind._

"And yourself and you two gentlemen?," I questioned glancing over to the two platinum blondes.

She shook her head just accepting the entire situation as it is,"Madam Malkin says so on the sign,deary, and these two probably want to introduce themselves to your lordship by themselves."

"Oh yes. I was just confirming your name, Madam. I'm fresh out of the muggle realm so I wouldn't know if you would have had other workers here with you or not so I tend not to jump to conclusions. That usually leads people to their own embracement or destruction when you or if you do jump to them," I informed as I shut one eye keeping the other open in my dramatics.

"I'll go grab another measure," Madam Malkin stated as she rounded a corner and disappeared into a wardrobe not unlike the one I once read in my previous lifetime. _'Narnia'_ I believe it was called.

"I'm Lord Lucius Malfoy. It's a pleasure Mr. Potter and this is my son and heir, Draco Malfoy," The tall blond introduced himself and what looked to be a miniature copy of him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both. It seems that young Draco and I are to be in the same year. Which house do you want to be in?," I inquired good-naturedly.

"Slytherin. Anywhere but Hufflepuff really," Draco answered a bit nervously.

"Draco...," Lucius warned.

"I like your honesty, but I _must_ know _now_ what's _so_ wrong with Hufflepuff?," I drawled quirking a brow in inquiry, ignoring Lucius who was sending warning glares at Draco probably because he was worried that his heir might offend a potential ally who holds a lot of Lordships and one of them just so happened to be Hufflepuff.

"I heard they were a bunch of duffers from some of my older relatives who were in Slytherin," Draco answered honestly while shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously.

"Draco! Language!," Lucius scolded, looking worried at the potential loss of an ally.

"Well did you know that badgers eat snakes?," I inquired with a mysterious smirk.

Lucius turned to me with eyebrows raised up to his brow, but said nothing.

"No I didn't," Draco said thoughtfully while frowning slightly in his thoughts.

"Ambition is nothing without those loyal to it, as it is also nothing without those brave enough to fight for it, and those intelligent enough to forward that ambition," I informed while smiling gently,"One house cannot stand alone or it will fall apart like a castle built upon sand. Like a kingdom, one needs a leader with a goal, a scholar to further the goal, a knight to fight for and protect said goal, and lastly soldiers, friends, servants and civilians to believe in said goal. Hufflepuff is looked down upon because it represents the public -the commoners-, but you will do well to remember that without the public there would be no kingdom to rule and no goal or ambition for anyone to follow. You see, it's the public -the majority- that decides whether or not you are worthy to rule them or whether or not to ruin your goal and destroy your ambition. So without their loyalty -the public's loyalty which is Hufflepuff's representation- the public will make all of your goals for not and all your ambitions crumble before you as it's the badger that decides whether or not the snake is worthy of being eaten or not in the end."

Draco looked down at his shoes while Madam Malkin burst through the wardrobe looking like she went toe to toe with a lion. She looked like she won, but she looked like she barely came out of the battle unscathed.

' _That'll gave the four them something to think about for a while then. Still go to love that blessed shocked silence.'_

"I found it!," Madam Malkin exclaimed happily letting the magical measure float over and jot down Draco's sizes while she finished mine, "Now to finish you off and drag you into that backroom of mine for some casual and formal wear."

Pulling me from the sizing platform and into the coat filled wardrobe into the next room that was filled with dressing robes that looked like some sort of weird dream about what people always felt was behind those dry cleaners hanging lines, but never saw.

"So what colors are you looking for dear," Madam Malkin asked cheerfully.

"I was thinking dark greens, dark browns, black, dark silver, burgundy, dark blue, and Cyan. Do you think you could do all seven causal and formal in each color?"

"All fourteen, two in each color, plus the seven Hogwarts robes?," Madam Malkin questioned.

"Yes. That is if it's not too much to ask? I'm trying to stimulate the economy so don't bother asking if I am buying too much. I can afford it because apparently 9/12 of Diagon Alley is mine and I run no risk of running out of money since the goblins assured me I have enough until next eternity," I answered,"I didn't see which shops I own though so I demand full price on everything -all for the economy of course."

"If you say so," Madam Malkin muttered as she left to wrap up the Malfoys uniforms before helping me with my clothing,"Did Christmas come early or is it just me."

Several hours of scrutinizing formal and casual robes alike as well as getting my uniform already tailored during the time I paid her and asked her if I could change into a blood red casual robe from my black skinny jeans and white button up shirt while she wrapped up my purchases. Feeling that the 2 presences were still there and not looking to be leaving anytime soon, I bit back a sly grin.

' _If they want a strip show, I'll give them one. I wasn't the most popular stripper in my previous life for nothing, though I will admit I was female at the time so I don't know if that changes things. Probably not by much.'_

I flipped my white button collar up as I toyed with the first button teasingly. Fake flushing my cheeks pink in irritation at the stubborn button until I finally unbuttoned the first button. Slowly I regained my previous color, and my hardened expression softened as I slowly -almost agonizingly slow- toyed with the second button until it slowly came undone, doing the third and the forth the same way, and so on. I slowly revealed my surprisingly slightly muscled pale chest and rosebud pert nipples. I slowly brushed the white cotton shirt off my lithe shoulders, down my slim torso until it hung by my elbows, loosely clinging onto my lithe frame down by my slightly curvy hips. I suddenly revealed the rest of my lithe young frame as I let my cotton shirt drop absently to the dark wood of the parlors floor.

' _Could've sworn I heard shuttering breaths from both parties and some pretty interesting fluctuating magic,' I grinning inwardly._

I fumbled with my belt buckle undoing it, this time more swiftly building anticipation faster than before. "Darn it. I've forgotten to wear underwear again. I guess I answered my own _previous_ question," I mused innocently. Teasing both parties who withheld baited breaths in anticipation.

I slowly started sliding my black jeans from my hips, slowly revealing what lies just beneath the thin black fabric. I slowly started unzipping my zipper, dragging the sound out as long as I could. I slide them down halfway revealing my pale arse, before I decided to let gravity do the rest for me. Revealing my pure nude body in all its shameless glory. My slender, slightly muscled, and smooth legs leading up to my firm plump arse and my flaccid cock hanging between my naturally slightly parted legs was revealed as I bent down -without bending my knees- with my arse facing towards the 2 presences demonstrating some of my flexibleness to pick up my discarded clothes from the floor.

' _Ooh la la looks like I got them panting now. That was some wave of fluctuating magic,' I thought inwardly smirking._

I looked up my face flushing pink with an expression of if I suddenly remembered something important. As I regarded the clothing.

"Oh goodness how silly of me to have forgotten, how does one put on a wizarding robe?," I mused aloud, again to no one in particular, "I suppose it is trial and error or maybe an ordeal of _maturation._ "

I heard stifled groans from both parties at the 'innocently' overly-enthused word.

I sat my old clothes on the same table that housed the blood red wizarding robes as I picked up the red pair of oddly loose fitted slacks.

"I suppose these are the slacks of the magic side of things," I mused sitting myself on the wooden floor spreading my legs so my audience got a full view of the goods as I looked over the slacks, "Seems simple enough."

I rolled over so I was on my hands and knees directly in front of the of one of the presence for a few moments before getting up on my knees slowly with a slight panted huff, licking my lips slightly as I did for effect before slowly rising to my feet.

' _I heard a ragged breath. I now have confirmed one with a 'domination' kink.'_

I once again bent baring my rear and displaying it for my audience to admire and stepping into the slacks. I slowly pulled them up, slowly righting myself back to my graceful poster as my shameless nudity was now covered in a sort of reverse tease. I hummed tunelessly as I walked back to the table to retrieve the top half of my underrobes as I dropped it to the floor purposefully slowly picking it up letting the slacks antagonizing slide down slightly revealing a slight bit of my firm plump arse in the loose slacks.

I slowly pulled up one sleeve on one arm to rest on my shoulder copying the process with the other letting it hang losslessly open baring my chest and hardened nipples shamelessly still. Standing in front of the mirror. I straightened my slacks, covering the white flesh once more. I admired the workmanship but couldn't help but compare it to a japanese kimono. I gripped the rope-like tie loosely in a traditional japanese fashion slowly with deliberate dramatics with gentle, carefully pronounced finger motions, that seemed to mimic the motions of gentle stroking.

' _I heard a shuttering breath from the other. This one seems to have a 'watching' kink.'_

"Finally to the outer robe," I sighed aloud. Walking ever to the table slowly, quickly putting my arms through the sleeves and around my shoulders leaving it open in the traditional Japanese fashion. Glancing a look in the mirror.

"Goodness. I think I look more like a shrine princess than a lord. I'm going to have to guard my _tight virgin hole_ even more carefully now that I look even more _androgynous_ than before," I mused aloud in _real_ sincerity (Perverts were after me all the time despite my physical bodies young age), "I wonder if at this point if I should put that chastity belt I bought to good use."

 _'Two panted breath. Both with the same two kinks.'_

I gathered my non-magical clothes and opened the door exiting with 2 presences following soon after.

"Madam Malkin, I'm finished here. Are you done wrapping things up?," I hollered.

"Yes, deary, I left your things by the check-out counter," she hollered back.

"Thanks. Farewell Madam," I yelled as I briskly walked grabbing the single bag that I knew housed all the clothing with shrinking and lightening charms placed on them as I peared in checking to see if I didn't forget anything absently wandlessly and wordlessly shrinking my non-magical cloths as I shoved them into the bag the bag as well.

"To Ollivander's the creepy magical person whom I has an obsession with people's _wands~,_ " I sang. I hummed a very good imitation of a hummingbird's song, but paused in the song as butterflies attacked me from out of nowhere, "I was wondering where you guys disappeared to. I hope you guys didn't get yourselves into any mischief."

* * *

I resumed humming the wordless song as I walked into the wand shop with the 2 presences still lagging behind choosing to stay just outside of Ollivander's shop.

"Mr. Potter is it now? I was expecting you," Ollivander smirked glancing behind me at the 2 presences waiting outside his shop doors listening intently, "Yes I assume you have had fun in the wizarding world. This today's visit anyway."

"Yes loads. I've found the Goblins to be by far the most fun today," I smirked back.

"Oh? Have you made progress on the whole mind torture Dumbledore thing," Ollivander quipped.

"Step one is complete, step two isn't yet to come until I know specifically what to do to him and step three isn't yet known to work out but if step three isn't a go I could do away with it and move onto step four."

"Well good to know that you at least have a slightly more sane plan to deal with him than the first you thought up," Ollivander chirped.

"Yep. I didn't really think I could get away with the quartering by therstal, anyway. So wand? You know the one right?," I quired.

"Afraid so," he enthused summoning the box over.

I took it out and gave a swish and flick sending silver and gold sparks out than with another flick I put it out.

"Wand-holster and cleaning kit?," I questioned as Ollivander summoned them over.

"Seven gallean's for the wand, eight for the wand-holster, and four sickles for the cleaning kit," Ollivander stated. Nodding my head. I handed him the money, and put on the wand holster shrinking my cleaning kit and putting it in my bag.

"Good day, my old friend," I said to Ollivander, the man who used to be my assassin teacher who was also curiously reborn as well, before opening the door and leaving, "I'll be around later for some of your famous not-at-all poisonous tea and to exchange tales."

I left quickly to gather the rest of my school supplies with a tuneless humming saying nothing besides greetings and purchasing my items, ingredients, before I stopped in front of a pet store dropping the humming and buying an evil looking crow and naming him Grim. Humming a humorless funeral match during the rest of my shopping before I had gathered the too many bags to handle and had to finally stop at the trunk store.

"I can't believe I left getting a trunk last on my things to buy list, how utterly silly of me," I sighed loudly to myself as I still continued to feel those 2 presences.

 _"Don't they have anything else to do besides stalk me?"_

"What can I do you for?," the man asked.

"Three level standard issue trunk, but with a false bottom, black and silver finishing's with blood bound locks and magical signature bound locks, no passwords as I tend to forget them all too often, and lastly spelled feather light."

"That is surprisingly the easiest order today. It will be ready in a few, I already have one made up," the man said disappearing behind a door and reappearing minutes later with a large trunk in tow.

"How much do I owe you?," I questioned.

"50 galleons," he said quickly.

I handed him the money before placing my palm to the lock and doing the same to all three levels and the false bottom before using a quick display of wordless magic to spell all the items from my bag and sorting them leaving only Grim sitting on my shoulder squawking my funeral song in imitation.

"Well now that we're done here, I better shove off home," I mused to no one in particular as I felt for the Black Homes magic via the heir ring, and apperated there, trunk and bird in tow.

* * *

 _ **~-XxX-~~- Chapter 1: Part 5- Leave Them Wanting. The Dark Lord Seduced. -~~-XxX-~ (**_ _ **Voldemort's POV-Third Person)**_

* * *

Voldemort stared at his bedroom's ceiling and thought back to his first look at his so called nemesis. He at first didn't know what to expect when he first meet his mortal nemesis. Even after he first encounter with him he still didn't knew what to expect of him so he decided it best to follow after him, especially after his intriguing -to say the least- antics of correcting everybody's view of him as a savior into an unfortunate survivor and victim of an unfortunate incident, made possible from his parents sacrifice or from either fates folly or family luck for his explanation of how he survived the AK -as he dubbed the unforgivable-.

After following his beautiful rendition of the funeral march, Voldemort was a bit surprised still that Hadrian was a parslemouth even with his demonstration of his usage of the snake language in the bar when he had hissed the barkeeps name (that just so happened to be his true name), and enunciating his words with s's in a slight hissing tone, but he had not expected the white and black butterflies that littered the young male's body like decorations to re-transfigure into hundreds of different breeds snakes -some venomous some not- on entrance to Gringotts. His quick wit at handling the snakes and passerby's by switching to English and parsle simultaneously to sooth the snakes, wizards, and goblins alike made him respect his intelligence, and his cunning. Voldemort remembered watching him go skipping off innocently to the head goblin as if he hadn't just spoken in the so called 'dark' language of the snake in front of dozens of magicals, before the young male disappeared down a maze of corridors.

He remembered Hadrian disappearing for a few hours before the same -now blushing- goblin brought him back with him announcing his hatred of Dumbledore to everyone in the bank like it was the most natural thing in the world, before he went skipping outside to get almost tackled by his large collection of snakes. Voldemort remembered him using some quick wordless and wandless magic to transfigure them back into their cute butterfly forms; bowing dramatically and muttering something in a mix of parsletongue and English (to his amusement) on the cuddly nature of snakes with separation issues. Voldemort had then proceeded to follow the young male to be fitted for his uniform where he announced he was lord nine times over and heir twice over (He had to wonder how the younger male was second in line behind him for the Slytherin line).

Voldemort then got to be a witness to a very curious interaction between his follower and his followers son on the symbolisms involved with the houses and the importance of the public being in favor of one's ambitions and about the importance of loyalty from the public. He was very interested in learning more about that, but the conversation between the three was maddeningly interrupted by the tailor women. Who afterwards dragged Hadrian away for hours of mind-numbingly comparing of varies clothing styles. When Hadrian had finished and went to change his cloths that was when things took a different turn. The whole situation changed his feelings suddenly. The feeling destroyed any remaining remnants of hate, put his newfound feelings of curiosity and amusement on hold. The feelings of such intrigue, such heat, such want had filled him as his gaze was fixated on the youthful form, making his 'borrowed' bodies heart thump and pulse almost painfully. It gave him a feeling so wrong yet so right whist he watched Hadrian. The feelings he had never felt before of warmth rushed completely through his being, and he knew he was caught in the boys web.

He wanted the intense yet so innocent green gaze that made him freeze like a deer trapped in headlights to only look at him. He wanted the intelligence barely hidden behind those two poisonous green orbs to look upon him whist the boy debate's with him. He wanted that maddening and musically enchanting voice of his, that drew people to listen to his intelligent words like a siren's call, to hiss only his name and no one else's. Oh Gods he wanted that pale form that bent, bowed, panting, and kneeled so deliciously in front of him, as well as that delectable pink tongue that peaked out of his mouth briefly wetting those red kissable lips of the young males. He wanted the boy to be HIS. Only HIS. The boy had already unconsciously seduced him, and didn't even know it.

Voldemort remembered the absently said words the younger male said upon glancing in the mirror looking upon his reflection. Just thinking of it made him shudder with pleasure with the mere thought of that _tight virgin hole_. Thinking of all he what's to do with him is enough for him to moan aloud in pleasure, and instantly harden. He licked 'his' dry lips. He couldn't help but picturing the younger male wearing the chastity belt pleading -begging- him to be _released._ He couldn't help it, but he wanted the boy, even though it was so wrong to do so. So wrong to have these thought, and want to do that to a boy of only eleven.

He remembered following the boy out of the store after he had finished dressing. Voldemort remembered watching his lithe form weave between the crowds, interacting with the shopkeepers, and watching his angelic face morph into different expressions and twist with different emotions; changing so fast that it was hard to decipher them all before they had changed to another. Even the strange interaction with the wand dealer he overheard made him just want to know Hadrian.

Hadrian was just so different from what he had ever thought the boy to be. He was so complex that he just wanted to understand him. He wanted the boy. Oh god's how he wanted the boy. He wanted _all_ of him. _All of him._

He knew it was wrong for him to have these possessive, and more than just slightly obsessive feelings for a boy so much younger than himself who didn't even know he was watching him like a creep whist the boy undressed, and followed him around much like a stalker would. He just couldn't deny how he felt, even if the boy was prophesied to 'vanquish' him. He would wait until the boy matures to court him. He'll wait until Hadrian's of age before he takes him. Voldemort shuddered in pleasure at the thought of 'taking him' before he started to drift off as his obsessive and possessive thoughts faded tiredly from his mind. He closed his eyelids and fell asleep soon after.

 _*Voldemort's Dream*_

 _The pale lithe form squirmed underneath him as he pinned the slender pale wrists to the Slytherin green silk sheets of his bed. The petite body beneath him mewled in pleasure as Voldemort slowly rotated his hips against the smaller body beneath his larger form, rubbing their still clothed hard members together. Making the figure underneath him moan lowly in pleasure with the delicious friction he caused them between both their flimsy coverings that separated them from skin on skin contact._

 _"What do you want my Hadrian?," he hissed in his lover's ear in the sensual language of snake."Tell me what you want me to do to you," He demanded his voice husky in lust filled parsletongue as he thrust harshly, and sharply rotate his hips with each word making Hadrian whimper hotly, and writhe wantonly beneath him._

 _Hadrian panted ruggedly before he began in his enchanting voice in equally lust filled and demanding parsletongue "I want your-"_

 _*Dream End*_

Voldemort's eyes snapped open instantly as he heard the loud bang resound from his sleeping quarters.

"Is-iss an-any-body th-the-re," Voldemort stuttered using Quirrell's voice box instead of his own.

"Oh sorry there Quirrell I was looking for a book I had thought I had left in here," Fenwick started before he moved towards the door. Mumbling Fenwick added,"I guess I was wrong I must of left it in Dumbledore's office instead."

 _'Arg..._ _How am I going to act around Hadrian tomorrow at the feast?...How would he react if he found out I was his enemy?...That I am his parents murderer...That I want to court him?,' Voldemort thought sighing loudly aloud, and burying his head in his hands, 'What am I going to do to gain my so called enemies affections?'_

* * *

End Chapter 3/? Edited Last: 3/16/2016 - 4.5/5 Done

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own the HP series nor do I make any money off of these writings. All rights and acknowledgments (That do not come from my own mind) go to its author Miss J.K Rowling.

* * *

Author's Corner: Author Notes, Questions & Answers

To the Readers & Reviewers,

Just so you may realize the Dursley's in part 1 were nice for a reason. *cough* Dumbledore's Manipulations *cough* (The letter if opened by Petunia or Vernon would have caused the house hold to hate him more + making them want to keep him. By opening it himself it he negated that little manipulation/compulsion magic by Dumbledore).

You also may notice how un-insane/un-apathetic Harry was/is (you know besides talking to himself which he will do a lot). He is written like this because Harry doesn't want people being suspicious of him being -you know- crazy so he negates peoples suspicions by acting kawii, funny/amusing, sarcastic, naïve, contradictory, mature, and by giving wise advice to seem helpful, and _not at all_ harmful yet being unassuming, and a bit vapid at times(Though he mostly does it for the amusement and the deliciously humorous -to him- stunned silence). He also does this to get more entertainment from it, because when he isn't being crazy, slightly apathetic, sadistic, or being a slight bit murderous, he is trying to gain amusement by anything, and everything to relieve his boredom, and his apathy.

On another note, I'm sure some of you are wondering how/why the OCC knows what he/she knows (for example magic), how Ollivander knows what he knows, or why Moody followed (You know besides him being super paranoid), but it's a secret until the next chapter comes out (Aren't I just the evilest? Insert evil smirk here). I've left you some hints and clues in the story which will lead you to all your answers, you just have to look for them.

To those wondering if this will be an mpreg, I'm not really sure, but I may consider it as the story progresses.

To those worrying about how young Harry is well worry no longer because Harry won't truly have relations with anyone until his physical body matures until he is of an acceptable legal age, but that does not mean that their won't be any fantasy's envisioned, flirting, teasing, or innuendos being flung back and forth.

The next chapter won't be released for a quite while as I am currently working on several other works of mine, and planning to write a few more because of the rabid ADHD plot bunnies on a sugar high that keep infesting my imagination land. I promise you that I won't abandon this work, but I am sorry to say that this story will return to it's hiatus with a promise of longer ten part chapters(Totally not shamelessly bribing you guys/gals with longer ten parter chapters).

From your insomniac author,

Cyan-san


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